Hatred
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: There are many things Chuuya and Dazai hate about each other. Friendship, angst, fluff, and bromance all around. Platonic!Soukoku, no pairings. Not fifteen canon compliant.
1. Foreword-Trust

"Every human is a mixture of light and darkness, fear and trust, love and hate."

-Jean Vanier

Trust. Trust is a rare commodity. Sometimes it is foolish, sometimes it is wise.

I'll tell you the first thing Chuuya and Dazai hate about each other: the fact that they trust each other.

Their blood is mafia black by all right and reason, yet one ran away. They are Double Black; they still are, even if one turned white (or more accurately, grey).

Osamu Dazai and Nakahara Chuuya are shackled to each other with mutual pasts and tangled emotions.


	2. Smoke

"Every smoker has a story, so before you say smoking kills, I want you to know that something is already killing him."

-Anonymous

Age 16

Chuuya had been having a bad day. So he lit a cigarette and went in a small room to calm down.

He sprawled out on the couch and watched the curling wisps of smoke.

The door opened and someone entered. Chuuya cursed under his breath. The red-head knew exactly who had found him by the footsteps and cheerful humming.

"You'll destroy your lungs," Dazai idly warned as he plopped down in the armchair that was next to the couch. Chuuya moved his head slightly to see the raven.

"I'll die long before I get cancer, Mackerel," Chuuya retorted.

"Hmm—but I bet that you'd live longer than me," Dazai complained.

Chuuya scoffed. "If nothing changes with how you are, you'll die before you hit twenty."

Chuuya had a sudden idea; he exhaled in Dazai's direction. Dazai gave a mighty sneeze with the slightest bit of shock breaking through his mask of forced cheer.

Chuuya gave a laugh at Dazai's petulant look.

"Hey!" Chuuya protested as Dazai suddenly stole and put out the cigarette.

"You're not my mom," Chuuya hissed.

"Nope, I'm your partner who doesn't want to deal with a smoking addiction," Dazai happily said.

"I'm going to kill you," Chuuya growled and clenched his fists.

"I look forward to it," Dazai chirped.

Chuuya jumped and swung his right fist. Dazai managed to block the blow with his arms. Dazai winced at the force. Okay, maybe I shouldn't sit so close when I mess with him, Dazai thought.

XXX

Age 23

Dazai, Kunikida and Atsushi strolled down a street in Yokohama. The three had just gotten done with a stakeout at a restaurant thought to be gathering bets for a underground fight club.

An oddly familiar smell hit Dazai's nose as he approached an opening between buildings. Dazai sneezed as he passed the alleyway.

Dazai frowned for a brief second. He suddenly stopped only a few feet away from the alley opening. Kunikida and Atsushi stopped as well.

"Are you sick?" Atsushi asked with wide eyes.

"Nope," Dazai said, popping the p. Kunikida looked at his watch.

Dazai flicked his eyes at Kunikida who had opened his mouth to complain about lost time.

"Go on ahead. I just remembered something I should do," Dazai cheerfully said and turned on his heel.

He walked around the corner the three had just come from. Atsushi looked at Kunikida with a questioning look.

"Let's leave the idiot to his own devices, we're already one minute and forty-two seconds behind schedule today." Kunikida continued to walk towards the Armed Detective Agency building. Atsushi nodded and followed.

Dazai waited a minute then walked back to the alley entrance. He huffed as the overpowering smell of cigarette smoke hit his nose.

An alley connected three streets. Dazai quite literally followed his nose. He was unable to use his eyes to track the smoke that billowed from one alley due to the lack of light.

Quietly trudging over dirt and grime, Dazai rounded one bend and stopped as he saw the end of the alley. Luckily, he was hidden by the lack of light.

At the end of the street, a street light sat to the right of the alley in a way that formed a patch of light. In that patch of light, a figure with red hair leaned against the wall.

Dazai eyed the four stumps of used cigarettes around dress shoes. He deduced that Chuuya went into an alley to brood, out of the sight of prying eyes and subordinates.

Dazai contemplated whether to leave his exhausted… friend (former friend?) alone. The trolling part of him wanted to bound into the alley and annoy Chuuya.

Dazai suddenly noticed the short distance between the two of them and the puddle of a dark liquid (quite obviously blood) underneath Chuuya's boots. The serious part of Dazai decided not to interrupt and walk away.

Then Chuuya dropped the cigarette he had been using, stepped on it, and lit another. The small flame from the lighter was bright enough for Chuuya to see a figure at the front of the alley.

"What do you want?" Chuuya half growled. Dazai mentally winced.

He met Chuuya's eyes with a smile. Chuuya simply stared.

Chuuya's eyes were glazed over with the guilt and nightmares that always occurred for Chuuya (and many other mafia members) after a bloodbath. Dazai's smile turned to a frown with the slightest bit of concern.

"This is almost nostalgic," Dazai joked.

Chuuya sighed at the attempt to lighten the mood. "I fail to see how."

"Well, one of us slinking off to have a mental breakdown… and the other finding them by accident," Dazai said with a smirk.

"Was that supposed to be funny?" Chuuya deadpanned.

"Well, was it?" Dazai cheekily asked.

"Not by any standard of humor." Chuuya scoffed.

"Maybe it is by mine." Dazai chirped.

"Even by yours-weird as it is-no." Chuuya dryly countered.

Dazai shut his mouth for a minute, currently content with having coaxed a bit of fire back into his former partner.

Chuuya stamped out his cigarette. Dazai's contentment with the situation evaporated as Chuuya reached for his seventh dose of nicotine.

Dazai knew he'd only have the element of surprise once. Chuuya's hands were full with a new cigarette and the pack.

Dazai lunged forward. Chuuya was caught off guard. The pack of cigarettes flew out onto the street.

Chuuya growled and dropped his unlit cigarette. Chuuya swung at his former partner with a ferocity that belonged to the redhead's child self.

Dazai was too slow to react. The detective was slammed into the alley wall with a thud. Chuuya grabbed Dazai's collar.

"You..." Chuuya snarled. Dazai smirked. Chuuya hurled curses of multiple languages at Dazai. The brunette simply stood with a smirk on his face.

The raging fire was back in Chuuya's eyes. Dazai had accomplished his objective: Get Chuuya out of his brooding. (And get rid of the idiotic cigarettes.)

Now Dazai had a new mission: escape from a rampaging Chuuya.

Omake: Disguise

Age 13

The limousine was a luxury Dazai hadn't experienced before. Although the suit was uncomfortable, it was worth it for riding in a limo. The first few seconds, Dazai was engaged in watching trees and buildings pass. Then the brunette looked at the young teen sitting across from him and returned to his favorite activity.

"You're a wonderful rich girl," Dazai joked.

Chuuya was pretending to be a wealthy heiress. A red kimono ordered by Kouyou, copious amounts of makeup, and several pieces of jewelry made him a very convincing young woman.

"And you're a wonderful gentleman," the redhead retorted sarcastically.

"Why thank you Chuuya-chan." The brunette responded with a smirk.

The redhead balled his fists up in anger. "What did you call me?"

"Hmm? What did I say to make you mad, Chuuya-chan?"

Mori held back a smile at his apprentice's antics.

"You b*, if I wasn't in this kimono I would kill you right now," Chuuya threatened.

"Ah, but you are in that kimono," Dazai pointed out with a grin. The brunette dodged the knife that Chuuya sent as his response.

A long pale hand caught the knife before it hit the upholstery. "Children," Kouyou sternly warned.

The two perpetrators gave apologetic smiles.

"Sorry Ane-chan."

A/N

The age of Chuuya and Dazai will be stated when there's a year jump.

I don't support smoking, especially regularly.

The Omake was based off the joke of Chuuya acting as a 'spoiled rich girl'

-Silver


	3. Guidebook

"With all the things I know, I could write a book..."

-Sacha Guitry

Age 15

"Ooo, a river." Dazai commented brightly.

The brunette ran over and jumped on the railing. Dazai crouched, a smile on his face as he saw the flowing water several yards below.

Suddenly, someone grabbed his collar and pulled him backward off the rail.

The brunette was sprawled on his back. "Ow. "

"If you're going to kill yourself, do it after our job," Chuuya lectured.

"But it's such a pretty river, and it'll be dark later." Dazai complained.

"Do I look like I care?" The redhead retorted.

Dazai stuck his tongue out. "Spoil-sport."

Chuuya rolled his eyes and walked towards the mission objective. He grumbled to him, "at this point I could write a book about that idiot. How to handle your suicidal partner, by Chuuya Nakahara."

XXX

Age 22

It was a packed bar. Kunikida saw an open space and headed towards it.

Kunikida slid into the cushy bar seat. The bartender raised an eyebrow at the detective. The blond sighed, "I'll have a straight whiskey. The cheapest you have."

The detective mentally groaned about his decision. Going drinking to get over Dazai's latest shenanigans would throw off his budget.

Kunikida glanced to his right. A redhead with a fedora looked up from his own glass. An opened wine bottle stood by the other man's arm. With shock, the detective realized who the man was.

"Mr. Nakahara," Kunikida politely greeted.

"Kunikida… the Mackeral's partner," Nakahara Chuuya begrudgingly replied.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence. After Kunikida received his drink, Chuuya spoke up. "Has the Mackerel given you guys a lot of trouble?"

The detective twitched and took his time sipping the whiskey. "It's hard to keep my sanity."

Chuuya nodded with grim understanding. "On average, how many attempts?"

"Once or twice a day. My colleagues treat it as more comical and weird than serious," Kunikida replied with a sigh.

"That's a severe decrease," Chuuya observed. The Mafia executive gestured to his open bottle. "Do you want some?"

"Thank you." Kunikida responded. In the back of his mind, the deceptive wondered how often Dazai had attempted suicide while in the Port Mafia. How many of Dazai's brushes with death had the brunette's former partner seen?

The two spent a while keeping an eye on those around the room and slowly getting through their drinks. The detective mulled over the past day and if he could have done anything different. Kunikida frowned-he liked peace-but Dazai knew exactly how to press his buttons for him to erupt in frustration and rage.

The detective sighed once again. The executive raised an eyebrow. "What's on your mind? Something happen recently?" Chuuya questioned.

The blond refused to answer, lost in his thoughts. "More?" Chuuya asked, and tapped the wine bottle.

"Ah, no, no. Thank you." Kunikida politely replied.

"I insist." Chuuya waved away the blond's concerns. The executive poured for Kunikida, and vice versa.

"As I said before, did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?" Chuuya pried. "Well..." Kunikida trailed off.

The executive sensed the detective's hesitance. "We're allies for now," Chuuya pointed out.

The detective was annoyed and drunk enough to confide in his temporary ally. His rant started out with, "He flirts with every young woman he sees..."

After Kunikida ran out of words for his grievances, Chuuya leaned on a hand. "Same old problems then."

"I've only dealt with him for two years. How'd you survive?" Kunikida asked.

Chuuya pursed his lips and ignored the question. "I'm willing to help. I wrote down everything I learned about handling him."

XXX

Kunikida had two books opened in front of him.

He was reading the new book and every once in a while wrote something down in his Ideal book.

Atsushi crept in front of Dazai's desk and lifted the reading book up in an attempt to glimpse the title. Kunikida lightly slammed the book down on the whitenette's fingers.

Atsushi grimaced. "What are you doing?" Kunikida asked. The annoyed blond allowed Atsushi's fingers to escape.

Behind Kunikida, Dazai popped up to sneakily read over his partner's shoulder. "I was curious," Atsushi admitted.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Dazai reminded the weretiger.

And what are you doing, not reading over Kunikida's shoulder? Atsushi sarcastically thought.

Dazai looked over Kunikida's shoulder. A strange look crossed the brunette's face. "Who gave you this?"

Kunikida showed the front to Dazai and Atsushi. The black letters stood out clearly on rrthe tan cover.

'How to Handle Your Suicidal Partner, by Chuuya Nakahara.'

Dazai gasped in horror.

"It showed up on my doorstep," Kunikida explained. The blond omitted meeting the redhead the night before, as Dazai would be even more annoying today if he knew.

"Curse you hat rack," Dazai muttered.

XXX

Chapter 2: Suicide attempts

Section 4

"Hanging: Cut the rope."

Dazai hummed as he swung the rope over the beam. He secured the rope end to the leg of the couch in the waiting area.

The rest of the office continued to go about their business. Atsushi and Kyouka were the only ones to stop what they were doing.

Dazai slipped the noose around his throat and jumped from the coach.

He landed spread-eagle on the floor.

"Dazai, stop messing around," Kunikida barked.

Dazai stuck his tongue out at the blond.

XXX

Chapter 2: Suicide attempts

Section 9

"Overdose: Steal the pills. They should be in his desk at work."

Dazai reached in his desk. He was going to attempt an overdose today.

He held up the bottle. It was empty. Dazai cursed. I must have used them up last time.

Kunikida smirked. Ranpo raised an eyebrow at the unusually smug blond.

XXX

Chapter 3: Women

Section one

"Hitting your partner when he proposes anything that includes death-either of himself or a woman-is completely acceptable and suggested. Kicking is also allowed."

"Would you mind committing a double-" Dazai clutched his head in pain. "Kunikida," Dazai complained.

"I apologize for him, ma'am." Kunikida bowed to the stunned lady.

The blonde then dragged his partner back to the office, where a stack of paperwork waited to be completed by the brunette.

XXX

It only took that day for the guidebook to become required reading for all ADA members.

XXX

TheFlyingSlug: How'd it go?

TheFlyingSlug: Want to meet up?

Pragmatic_Idealist: Sure.

Pragmatic_Idealist: Place and time?

TheFlyingSlug: Ten, a bar called Lupin

Pragmatic_Idealist: Alright.

Pragmatic_Idealist: I'll be there.

XXX

The bar was small and secluded. It was homely, in a way that was weirdly familiar to everyone who came there.

The smell of smoke drifted past Kunikida's nose. Chuuya took another drag of his cigarette. A cat meowed and jumped down from the stool it had sprawled on.

The Mafia executive turned his head to see who entered. The bartender nodded towards the newcomer.

Kunikida thoughtfully looked around the small room. "I've never been here before. How'd you find this place?"

"It's neutral territory, an old haunt of mine. A few friends of mine and I would meet up here for drinking every once in a while."

Kunikida nodded in understanding and sat to Chuuya's right.

The two ordered drinks and made small talk about things going on in Yokohama.

Finally, the mafia member decided to bluntly ask about the elephant in the room. "How'd it go? Well I expect?"

"Very well. I am indebted to you," Kunikida admitted and nodded towards Chuuya. "How'd your day go?"

"The usual. Paperwork, fighting, and trying to get Akutagawa to realize that killing people won't solve all of his problems," Chuuya grumbled.

Outside, a man walked down the foggy alley towards Lupin's door. The creak of floorboards alerted the three already inside to the presence of a new person.

"Whoops," the man commented cheerfully.

"Dazai," the man's two partners said together with annoyance.

The brunette collapsed into the chair beside Chuuya.

"Whiskey, on the rocks," Dazai ordered. Kunikida took a sip of his drink, and Chuuya exhaled a wisp of smoke.

"Why are you here?" Chuuya bluntly questioned about the elephant in the room. Dazai dramatically shrugged.

The bartender placed the whiskey in front of the brunette. The former mafia member took a sip and then stuck his tongue out at the two men to his left.

"What?" Kunikida asked with a sigh. It seems that the two men would be getting the answer tonight at least.

"It's not fair for you two to team up. I can't commit suicide or do anything fun with both of you on my case," Dazai complained.

The two in question rolled their eyes. "That's the point," they replied in exasperated unison.

XXX

Reviews for How to Handle Your Suicidal Partner by Chuuya Nakahara

Workalcoholic67: Thank God this exists.

Pragmatic_Idealist: Very useful, saved me a lot of time and patience.

1 Reply to Pragmatic_Idealist: Workalcoholic67: Same

AnActualDoctor: Amusing and insightful. Some less-forward methods to deal with the person would be appreciated.

Omake-Foreword

If you deal with someone who regularly attempts suicide, constantly flirts with women, and annoys the crap out of you, this book is for you. If the person you're dealing with is Osamu Dazai, I suggest you buy this book immediately.

-Chuuya Nakahara

A/N

Pragmatic_Idealist=Kunikida

Workalcoholic67=Ango

AnActualDoctor=Mori

TheFlyingSlug=Chuuya.

Slug:1. Dazai's nickname for Chuuya (in BSD and real life). 2. Slug can also mean a shotgun bullet.

-Silver


	4. Bandages

"They tied me back together, but they didn't use double knots… I can feel it, but every time I check the bandages, they're dry."

-Laurie Halse Anderson

Age 14

After Mori became boss, the doctor was unavailable to wrap Dazai up after a mission or session. The job fell to Chuuya by proxy.

This time a bullet had left a bloody trail over Dazai's left shoulder.

The blood had been cleaned up, although it still sluggishly oozed drops of scarlet every minute.

Chuuya cleaned the wound with an anti-infection agent as Dazai winced.

Dazai hissed as Chuuya pressed hard on the patch of bandages.

"You could be more gentle," Dazai whined.

"You could have been more careful. I know you could have dodged it."

Dazai smirked. "But then your hat would have taken a hit."

"I'd prefer a ruined hat to bandaging my partner up," Chuuya said with a scowl.

"Aww, so you do care," Dazai chirped.

Chuuya glared at his partner and tightened his hold on Dazai's lanky arm.

"Shut up before I break your wrist."

XXX

Age 23

There were many mysteries in the ADA. One that had never been solved was underneath Dazai's bandages. This was a mystery even Ranpo hadn't solved. Dazai kept them on at all times in the office.

It was late at night in the office. A crazy, city-wide case ended up with entire streets demolished and a fragile alliance once again established with the Port Mafia.

"I'm going for a coffee run," Atsushi announced. "Who wants something?"

"Hazelnut, two sugars," Kunikida requested.

"Green tea, teaspoon of sugar," Ranpo stated. (A spoonful of sugar, makes the medicine go down~ *cough* that was an accidental reference.)

"Nothing for me," Tachihara tacked on.

Yosano stuck her head out of the infirmary. "French vanilla, three creamers, five sugars."

"A noose," Dazai declared.

The office stared at Dazai, unamused. The brunette shrugged. "Fine. Some dark roast, with mocha syrup."

XXX

Atsushi was waiting in line. I really don't want to mess this up, Atsushi anxiously thought.

Suddenly, it was the weretiger's turn to order. "Oh, hi. Uhh. Dark roast with mocha syrup, green tea, hazelnut and French vanilla," Atsushi read off from his mental list. The man chuckled nervously. "Oh and… A cafe mocha please."

"Name for the order?" The cashier asked.

"Atsushi."

The ADA member awkwardly waited by the other end of the counter with three other customers.

A minute or so passed, until all of Atsushi's drinks came. The weretiger cautiously placed the drinks into a tray and then went over to a counter where the sugar and creamers were.

The weretiger mentally went down the list and put in the appropriate amounts.

Atsushi double-checked the orders. "I got everything."

Dazai hadn't asked for any sugar.

I'll put some sugar in, just in case, Atsushi decided.

XXX

Atsushi arrived back at the office, the tray of coffee in his hands.

Ranpo walked over and grabbed his cup. "Thanks."

The blond detective stopped signing paperwork and got up. Kunikida thanked his junior. "Which one is mine?"

Yosano stepped out of the infirmary. "There you are."

"This one, Kunikida. This is yours, Yosano." Atsushi explained.

"Thank you," the doctor replied.

Dazai had his head on his desk.

"Here's yours." Atsushi placed the mocha coffee on Dazai's desk.

The brunette lifted his head and stretched. "Thanks Atsushi-kun, I almost fell asleep."

Then the white-haired junior had a horrifying realization. He had put salt in Dazai's coffee instead of sugar.

Atsushi lunged for the coffee, yelling "no!"

He successfully stopped Dazai from drinking the coffee. Unfortunately in the process, the scalding hot liquid soaked Dazai's forearm.

Atsushi cringed. The hot coffee stained about a foot of Dazai's bandages with a light brown.

The brunette winced, the liquid burning against his skin. The heat brought back the memory of the nicks and scrapes that had been inflicted long ago in that area.

"Atsushi-san, grab new bandages from Yosano," Kunikida ordered. Atsushi dashed towards the infirmary.

Dazai tilted his arm up to start unraveling some bandages. The brunette had failed to account for physics. The puddle of liquid slid down his arm.

He grimaced as the heat uncomfortably hit his old torture scars. He shook off the pain that was both mental and physical and stood up.

"Dazai-" Atsushi was cut off by the bandaged brunette.

"I'll take those," Dazai cheerfully demanded as he grabbed the roll of bandages off of Atsushi.

The weretiger opened his mouth to argue about the others in the ADA helping Dazai since it was obvious the brunette was in pain. Kunikida shook his head, a frown instead of a scowl marring his face. Atsushi frowned at Kunikida; regardless, Atsushi held his tongue.

"See you guys later," Dazai practically sung. The office wasn't fooled; they knew Dazai was going to go treat his wounds. Wounds that hurt a great deal considering how Dazai's smile had broken for almost twenty seconds.

Ranpo ate a truffle and frowned. His facial expression was mirrored by all the people in the room.

Dazai went to his apartment and shot off a text. He knew the content would infuriate Chuuya.

XXX

Dazai's irritated former partner slammed his fist against Dazai's door in a rough imitation of knocking.

Dazai opened the door with a grin.

"You're big enough to wrap yourself up. And what, are you afraid of nightmares?" Chuuya growled.

Dazai said nothing. Just stood there with an empty smile on his face.

Chuuya tched. "It was the hot iron ones that really hurt? Yeah?" Chuuya predicted. A serious look crept into his eyes.

The slight thinning of Dazai's lips meant Chuuya had hit the nail on the head. Dazai gave a large smile right after, in an attempt to keep his former partner from realizing the truth. But his smile faltered under the weight of Chuuya's somber glare.

Chuuya sighed. "Alright, Mackerel. But then you delete all your pictures of me when I got stuck on the ceiling."

"Of course. I knew I could count on you, Chuuya."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me in before one of your colleagues sees me and flips out," the redhead grumbled.


	5. Care

"Sometimes it's easier to pretend that you don't care."

-Anonymous

Age 8

They were two of the orphans in Port Mafia. As usual, they had mentors. One was a rising assassin and the other was the boss's physician.

At the age of eight, it was kill or be killed. The kids were used in assassinations, blackmail, theft, and fraud.

XXX

Mr. Ito has a nice house and office, Dazai thought. The brunette curiously inspected and poked at the various knick knacks and books on the shelves.

The door opened.

Dazai whirled around, his fingers flying to his gun. A redhead-Nakahara Chuuya, the person who also beat him in training last week-held a knife in his hand.

"Why are you here?" The two hissed in tandem.

"Asked you first," Dazai replied immaturely, as he was still a child. (Not that Dazai grew out of being childish when he was older, but that is besides the point.)

"Asked you second," Chuuya snarked back.

Dazai decided to get to the point; the owner of the home would be back in under a hour. "Boss wants Mr. Ito dead. You?"

"Intel on all the members of 100 year Sake. What are you looking for?"

"I came here for the schedule," Dazai held up the calendar. "I loathe doing this, but how about a deal?"

Chuuya crossed his arms. "Work together to get our jobs done?"

"Yes, it makes sense. You need to find the intel. I need a sniper for..." The brunette tilted his head in confusion. The ink had smudged. "Yeah, I can't read the handwriting," Dazai admitted and passed the calendar to Chuuya.

The redhead sighed, yet he squinted at the kanji. "This Tuesday, 8:30 PM, at the Red Barrel."

"Now for my side of the deal." Dazai turned on the computer.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "Do you know the password?" The redhead asked skeptically.

"Nope," Dazai cheerfully responded.

The two guessed and guessed. The family pet, Mr. Ito's middle name, the wife's maiden name, and the names of all his children. Favorite color, mentor, old friend, past addresses, previous phone numbers… Every time, it was wrong.

A sudden thought struck Chuuya, and he facepalmed for not thinking of it sooner. The redhead quickly shuffled through papers on the desk.

"Not here, not here." Chuuya mumbled to himself.

"What are you doing?" Dazai asked, a befuddled look on his face.

"Don't mind me, just keep trying." Chuuya waved away Dazai's question. The redhead started to flip through books on the shelves.

Instead of thinking about his goal, Dazai started thinking about why him and Chuuya were sent on corresponding missions, given at almost the same time, and yet were not told or heard nothing about each other's job. The brunette stopped with a look of horror, as he figured out the plan and who was behind it.

"Quit daydreaming, moron. We have about thirty minutes to get this done." Chuuya snapped, and slid a book back on the shelf.

Dazai rolled his eyes. "I know, I know."

Chuuya snapped his fingers in sudden realization. "Hey Dazai, look under the keyboard."

Dazai raised an eyebrow but did as he was told, for once. A note with several labeled passwords was taped to the bottom.

Dazai hmmed as he typed the letters and numbers in. "How'd you think of that?"

"Because unlike you, people don't remember everything that they did in the month. So they write it down so they don't forge," Chuuya snarkily explained.

Dazai plugged in a USB and clicked 'download all'. 1%, 2%, 3%...

The low roar of a car pulling into the driveway caused the two children to tense. Someone was home.

97%, 98%...

Chuuya looked at Dazai and raised an eyebrow.

"Almost done," the brunette replied to the unspoken question.

Chuuya opened the two windows.

99%, 100%.

Dazai carefully pulled out the USB and deleted the internet history of the past hour.

The two jumped through separate window. The redhead had braced himself and performed a neat roll to distribute the force, while his partner in crime landed ungracefully onto the grass.

The duo made it into the bushes.

Chuuya stopped moving. Dazai curiously glanced over.

"What keeps me from not showing up?" The redhead asked, suspiciously.

Dazai shrugged. "Guilt. You seem to possess a sense of honour." Chuuya gave an incredulous look.

Dazai chuckled and dangled the USB on a chain from his fingers. "Also… I'll be holding onto your information until you help me."

The redhead narrowed his eyes but nodded. "Seems fair."

XXX

Dazai looked through a pair of binoculars. The target hadn't arrived yet.

Chuuya was laid out flat on the rooftop beside the brunette.

The redhead's full concentration was on the small view through the scope of a rifle that showed the left entrance of Red Barrel. He didn't pay attention to the cold raindrops that slid down his hood, the cries of cats in the dark alley behind, or his bored partner who tapped out a rhythm on the wet concrete.

"That's unusual. He's on the right," Dazai whispered. The brunette had mapped out his targets' habits, one of which was to drive up on the left side.

"Move." Chuuya elbowed the brunette. Dazai stuck out his tongue but shifted.

Chuuya shuffled to the side and adjusted his aim for the wind, different angle, and distance.

Mr. Ito stepped onto the sidewalk. Mrs. Ito was helped out and she smiled brightly at her husband.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle. (Sorry, madam)." Chuuya muttered, and took the shot.

Blood splattered on a blue dress. Mrs. Ito screamed.

By the time the police arrived, the two mafia members had run to the safety of the crime-run docks.

XXX

Age 11

It was the eighteenth time they had teamed up off-record to complete their objectives.

The two had just completed their missions and were in one of the beaten down neighborhoods. It was nearing dusk. The mafia ruled this area; it showed in the few people who either hid or bluntly showed off the weapon on them.

Chuuya sighed. It was dinnertime. "You hungry?" The redhead asked.

"Yup," Dazai replied, and then returned to his new game.

"There's a Yoshinoya. I'm going to get some food. You want something?" Chuuya offered. A hungry Dazai was annoying dialed up to eleven.*

"Sure. Pick something for me. I'll pay you back," Dazai replied absentmindedly.

XXX

Chuuya walked out of Yoshinoya, two pairs of chopsticks and two bowls in his hands.

He noticed the car speeding up. "Dazai!" The redhead shouted. He set down the food and utensils on the concrete sidewalk.

The brunette looked up and saw the car. His expression was something Chuuya had never seen before. Fear. Fear of death, for all that Dazai joked and acted like he had none.

The red head tore off a glove and lunged for the car. For the Tainted Sorrow coating the metal with a red glow. Chuuya flung the car down the street. The top of the car squealed as it skidded over the asphalt.

Dazai's expression quickly shifted to bored, but Chuuya knew what he saw. The brunette yawned while the redhead frowned.

They stalked toward the overturned car.

In the front seat, two men broke their windows and carefully crawled out over the broken glass. Another man, in the back, cautiously took glass shards out of his window.

On the right, the man wearing the watch sunk into a fighting stance. While on the right, the hoodie guy's hands started to glow black. Dazai eyed the ability user with a smirk.

"I'm left, you're right," The brunette cheerfully suggested.

"Makes sense," the redhead agreed and attacked the watch wearer.

Chuuya dodged under punch, tapped the man's legs with his ungloved hand, and put the man in a rear naked choke hold. A generous use of For the Tainted Sorrow on the ensnared man's legs ensured he would not be able to get out.

On the other side, Dazai grabbed his opposition's wrist. Taking advantage of Hoodie's shock at the sudden disappearance of his gift, the brunette threw an uppercut into the teen's face.

Chuuya counted to twelve then let go. The watch wearer collapsed to the asphalt.

The man in the back stood in front of the redhead. In the former's hand, a bullwhip of water formed and trailed along the ground.

Chuuya dodged, and a solid thwack resounded in the air. The whip was back beside the man.

The redhead dodged once again, but this time the whip user used his other hand to quickly change the direction of the second half of the whip.

It was only thanks to Chuuya's reflexes that the whip did not wrap around his throat. The weapon left a deep cut that stung and dripped blood down the mafioso's cheek.

The redhead tched and pulled out his knife, a calculating glint in his eyes. It was an assumption, but it wasn't unbiased and it would have to do.

Chuuya bolted for the man and then sprang into the air. For the Tainted Sorrow lessened the gravity around him. A red tint encased the mafioso.

The man panicked, and the water was quickly headed toward his attacker who seemed to ignore the laws of physics.

With his ungloved hand and a wince from the harsh impact, the redhead caught the weapon, the red glow extending down the whip. The man cursed.

The mafioso reversed what his gift had been doing, and he plummeted the few feet towards his panicking target. Chuuya landed on top of the man with a heavy thud. A rib cracked, and the man coughed violently as the air from his lungs was forced out.

The blunt side of the redhead's knife was used to knock his mark out.

Chuuya got up and looked to the other side of the car. Dazai had pulled out his phone.

The redhead's ringtone played. Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique was ill-suited to the scene.

Mackerel: The doctor will ask them for us.

Mackerel: He's also coming to help.

'Ask them,' a nice way of saying that Mori was going to torture and interrogate the men.

Cleanup was not going to take very long. Which was fortunate, as loitering around an area like this was a bad idea.

XXX

Chuuya was sitting on a couch when Dazai came out of the room.

"They were getting revenge for that guy we killed last year, Mr. Ito." Dazai sprawled onto the couch beside the redhead. Chuuya made a noise of acknowledgment, but remained focused on a game he was playing on his phone.

Dazai remembered what the redhead did and frowned. "You know I want to die. So why'd you stop the car?" Dazai asked, curiosity written across his face.

Chuuya's lips turned down. "You were scared," the redhead bluntly stated.

"Ah! Being crushed is a bad way to go, it's quite painful. The exact opposite of my goal." Dazai agreed sagely. The brunette dodged the unspoken question.

Chuuya sighed. "You're ridiculous."

XXX

Mori was involved with… this, Chuuya knew it from the beginning. This wasn't a coincidence, it was to test out their compatibility with each other while on a job.

The doctor had been fishing for a partner for his apprentice long before Chuuya came along as a potential candidate. Once Mori learned of Chuuya's ability, the former doctor had undoubtedly planned to have Dazai and Chuuya put together.

Chuuya couldn't do anything against the machinations of the doctor; they had already worked together several times. The unofficial test runs were a success.

The redhead would just have to try not to die from exasperation in the meantime. Putting up with Dazai's existence and vice versa became easier when the two weren't regularly stuck on stakeouts and other long term jobs together.

The Soukoku duo was later sent on their first official mission and were firmly cemented in being partners by Mori. The rest of the events that lead to such a decision will not be revealed here.

XXX

The two were an interesting pair, perfectly in sync while on a mission and constantly ribbing each other. In regards to their personalities, Port Mafia members would vouch for the two being like ice and fire.

Both were sharp and cutting, but Chuuya was unlike the other mafia high-ups. He wasn't cold. Not the literal cold-when he came back after a mission in a swamp, Dazai could attest to Chuuya smelling like mud and rotten things and being the temperature of an ice cube.

Chuuya still cared whether his colleagues lived or died. That was rare in the Mafia. Rare for someone who had lead a life so tainted by misery.

Dazai rarely cared, but that was not rare in criminal life. What was uncommon about him was his lack of emotional response to torture and gruesome scenes.

His personality had been described by others in the mafia as 'having the capability to act cheerful and turn deadly with little warning to the latter's arrival.'

This lead to an interesting conundrum, emotions and ethics were not useful for Chuuya on missions. He tried to hold on whatever of the last he could, his attempt during his assassin days could be considered somewhat of a success.

During his time as a Port Mafia executive, the slightest hesitation or anger could end with a higher body count of his men. In the end, his morals did not slip through his fingers; he choose to cull what he considered unnecessary.

Chuuya cared whether his men died; if Dazai did, he showed no sign of it. Which one the lower-ranked members would rather trust was an easy choice.

XXX

Age 12

At age twelve, Chuuya would have to kill or die. That was the choice. Dazai knew Chuuya wanted another choice, he got his wish.

"Kill him," Dazai told the redhead.

Chuuya's fingers quivered on the handle of his knife. Chuuya glanced at the elderly man in dogeza and then to Dazai. I can't, Chuuya desperately pleaded with his eyes.

Dazai clicked his tongue. The brunette spun on his heel and pulled the trigger. Three Port Mafia members fell.

"They would have told the Boss," Dazai stated.

"Are you letting him go?" Chuuya incredulously asked.

"I thought you wanted me to. I guess I was wrong," Dazai jokingly replied, and shot the old man in the chest.

Chuuya stood frozen in shock. A look of betrayal was clear on his face. The taller half of Double Black only smirked.

Chuuya glared at Dazai. "I hate you now," the redhead stated, his voice trembling.

"I know. We're even," Dazai simply replied. "Heh. I guess I'll stay away until you let go of your grudge," Dazai commented. Chuuya glared.

Both of them knew Dazai saved Chuuya's life. It was fair return. But that didn't take away the heavy weight that grew in Chuuya's heart.

The only reason you covered for someone in the Port Mafia was because you had something valuable to gain or couldn't withstand the person's death. And now, if the Boss found out they refused orders, both of them would die.

XXX

Then the next week, Chuuya saved Dazai's life. And vice versa, and on and on.

Was it 60-63 now? They wondered something along those lines sometimes. Eventually, they lost count.

Why did they keep doing it? 'Both of them hated the other', so they told themselves. They did, but sometime along the way of being partners, they started to care about whether the other died. But it was easier to pretend they didn't.

A/N

Yoshinoya is a popular fast food chain restaurant company in Japan.

-Silver


	6. Messes

"Life is a series of mistakes, followed by long periods of damage control."

-Linda Poindexter

Age 16

Rashomon writhed around the falling bullets. Four of the ten metal pieces dropped to the ground.

Dazai sighed and took a step towards his student. A loud slap rang out. Akutagawa suppressed his fear, trying to concentrate on the pain.

"You have so little control, I'd be better off trying to train a rabid animal. Although, you aren't far from one in any regard," Dazai happily sneered. His eyes were cold and disappointed. The black coat and suit he wore only made him look more malicious.

Dazai forced Akutagawa through the exercise again and again. The punishments differed depending on how many bullets Rashomon caught.

Near the end of the fourth hour, Akutagawa dropped to his knees. Rashomon withdrew to the boy's coat. All of the bullets that had just been caught clattered to the ground.

Dazai chuckled. The amusement sounded happy and real, but Akutagawa knew his mentor was annoyed and deadly serious.

The brunette leaned down, his mouth next to Akutagawa's right ear, "giving up?"

The black haired boy kept his eyes on the white concrete beneath his feet. Dazai paused, an empty smile on his face, "do you want me to throw you and your sister back into the slums?" The tone was unsettling, blood curdlingly sadistic, yet terribly bored.

Akutagawa clenched his teeth and stood, Rashomon extended once again.

Dazai cherfully smiled, "good, don't make me even more disappointed in you."

XXX

Ango and Odasaku glanced at the person who opened the door.

Dazai stood at the entrance to the break room, eyes twinkling with mirth. The only greeting he have his friends was a quick wave as he rushed over to the room's small closet door and went inside.

About ten second later, Nakahara Chuuya stalked into the room.

"Hey Odasaku, Ango, have you seen Dazai?" The annoyed executive asked.

"No, why?" Oda replied and pointed to the closet, a smile on his face.

Chuuya nodded at Odasaku and smirked, "are you lying? You're not covering up for him?" The redhead silently moved closer to the closet.

"I am not," Odasaku replied, calm as ever. Ango sighed at the actions of his colleagues and went back to reading his book.

Chuuya flung open the closet door and dragged his partner out.

Dazai frowned and whined, "but, Chuuya-"

His ginger partner looked throughly unamused. "-Don't 'but, Chuuya' me. We need to look over the raid plans for tomorrow night."

The red head proceeded to frog march his fellow executive out of the break room.

Oda and Ango chuckled, fairly amused at the situation. "They are quite a pair," Odasaku remarked.

"They seem much more lively with each other. Although, they don't get to be around their peers much, so it's to be expected," Ango mused.

"True, but, I think the way they act around each other is just how their odd...friendship works."

XXX

At first, Chuuya would gather all relevant information about a target and Dazai would create a plan around that knowledge.

When they grew older, they got missions not just targeting one person but multiple persons, sometimes whole organizations. The way the duo prepped had to change.

Past the age of fourteen, they followed this routine: 1) They immediately claim a conference room in Port Mafia HQ. 2) They collect information from the archives and online. 3) Formulate a plan together.

Many times, due to short notice or having previously been sleeping, they had ended up in their apartment living room: still wearing fuzzy pajamas, downing coffee to ward off sleep, and holding back large yawns.

However, this was not one of those times. The duo had two days to attack a troublesome organization that had recently arrived in Yokohama.

On the morning of the second day, Akutagawa had received a text from his mentor, that told him to go to Room 378. He opened the door, an unusual sight on the other side.

Papers, folders, and maps were strewn across the long oblong table.

Akutagawa stared at the redhead, Chuuya Nakahara, who sat next to Dazai. This was the first time he would be working under his mentor's mysterious partner.

"Akutagawa, get me the uptown sewer map, it's somewhere over there, " Dazai ordered, gesturing to a heap of scattered papers. Beside Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara was writing something down.

Akutagawa nodded and started his search. He went through the massive pile and sorted the papers by topic. There was a chance Dazai would delegate clean up to his apprentice.

"I need the blue files," Chuuya announced, he loudly cracked his neck, and got up. The redhead glanced over Akutagawa's work, slightly impressed. At least the kid had some skill when it came to things aside from killing.

By the time Akutagawa had found the sewer map, Chuuya had long returned to his seat. The boy walked over to his mentor and put the item on the table. A brief nod was the only response to his actions.

Akutagawa went back to his seat. Only a few seconds later, jabs and arguments started to pass between his superiors. The boy stared and felt a shiver run down his spine. He had never seen anyone act so disrespectfully to his mentor, or two Executives act so chaotic. Paper was being shoved in faces, index fingers were used to stab the table to accentuate points, and the arguments and rebuttals consisted of blatant sarcasm with occasional yelling.

Somehow, after what felt like a millennia to a wide-eyed Akutagawa, the duo agreed on a plan. It was a slightly insane course of action with dozens of backups.

And yes, Akutagawa was left in charge of clean up.

XXX

Double Black's plans had fallen through rather quickly. No matter how much one has prepared, one is not guaranteed that their machinations will succeed. The last resort would have to be resorted to.

"If you let me die, I will come back to haunt you," Chuuya threatened.

Dazai chuckled, "of course."

XXX

Akutagawa watched in fear and awe as his redheaded superior easily decimated several blocks along with the enemies on the street and in the buildings. Every step Chuuya took left cracks and shook the ground. Orbs of black and red wrecked all that came in touch with them.

Then Chuuya turned around, allowing Akutagawa a good look at his superior. Red lines ran up and down pale skin. Teeth were bared in an unnatural lopsided grin.

Blue eyes locked onto Akutagawa's, and the boy felt like screaming as the redhead laughed. A black orb formed above a well manicured hand. Akutagawa's eyes were wide, his adrenaline kicked in. On instinct, black spears surged for the redhead. However, someone intercepted the attack.

Dazai stood in front, an annoyed frown etched on his face. His rebuking gaze sent a chill down Akutagawa's spine.

With a leisurely turn on his heel, Dazai lunged for Chuuya. The brunette's fingers folded around his rampaging partner's arm. "You annihilated the enemy, Chuuya," Dazai commented as usual.

Blue irises widened back to normal, eerie red lines faded, and a shaky breath was taken. Chuuya sat down on the dusty rubble beneath his feet.

"A solid half minute of rampaging and only slightly tired." Dazai noted with an impressed whistle.

"Slightly tired is an understatement. I feel like I could sleep for a decade," Chuuya snapped. His eyes were bloodshot with heavy bags underneath, his hair was wild and need combed, and his clothes were covered in dust and blood.

Dazai shrugged, "well, it's to be expected." Chuuya rolled his eyes.

Dazai grinned at his partner. "Hey, Chuuya, I'll be dealing with the rest of our enemies, covering up how you destroyed eight city blocks, and the mission report. So tomorrow, take over training the idiot who almost tore a hole through your chest," the brunette cheerfully 'negotiated'. Akutagawa flinched, his eyes darted over to Chuuya.

Chuuya sighed, he would be useless for the rest of the day. "Fine," the redhead agreed. He knew Dazai was truly pissed with Akutagawa from the disturbing cheerful comment, the dark glint in Dazai's brown eyes and the sudden straight backed posture.

If he didn't take over training, Akutagawa would go through the most horrendous thing Dazai could cook up on short notice. And it would be immensely terrible, Dazai had always been wonderfully creative when it came to the psychological aspect of torture methods.

XXX

Akutagawa's mind boiled over with thoughts. He was trying to decipher what had transpired last mission. Why was someone with an uncontrollable ability Dazai's equal? What else did the petite redhead have to be accepted by his mentor? Nothing? Chuuya Nakahara had nothing on Akutagawa aside from being two years his senior and a destructive ability that needed Dazai as it's handler.

XXX

"What do you think you need to work on?" Chuuya asked.

Akutagawa grimaced and admitted, "I know little about close combat."

The Executive smirked, "fine by me, we'll start there."

At the end of the session, Akutagawa wanted to collapse. His muscles had been thoroughly put to their limit.

Chuuya cracked his neck. The Executive was going to go somewhere else to train and destress. The past two hours had been mentally taxing. The boy had practically no idea how to fight in close quarters, about thirty minutes of physical stamina, and glared at his superior the whole time.

"There's no missions for you today, so go eat and take a nap. You can go exploring with Gin if you want. You're dismissed," the redhead finished with a wave of his hand and left the general HQ training room.

Akutagawa couldn't suppress the rise of his eyebrows and thoughtful frown on his lips. Dazai usually trained until the kid dropped to ground, unable to perform the strenuous acts requested. Apparently, not all of the Executives trained subordinates like that.

XXX

Age 17

Slug: You showed Akutagawa some of your interrogation methods?

^)))) : Ah, Gin talked to you?

Slug: He's crumbling psychologically.

Slug: He almost got ran over.

Slug: He got beaten in training with the other Gifted kids for the first time in months.

Slug: He almost didn't dodge a knife while on a job with you.

^)))) :*waves concerns away*

^)))) : ^^

^)))) : I'll deal with it.

The reply was stuck in Chuuya's mind, unsent. 'I doubt it.'

XXX

Age 19

Chuuya had become Akutagawa's direct superior several months ago, he still didn't know how to get through to the kid.

"Your job was to act as a scout. You failed spectacularly," Chuuya dryly declared.

Akutagawa opened his mouth to argue, as he did the last few times he had gotten in trouble. "I-" He stopped at a venomous glare from his superior.

"Don't interrupt, you blew up the base. The target ran and you lost them."

XXX

Age 20

This was bad. Chuuya stared through the glass of the elevator. He was on his way to see the Boss.

Being held somewhat responsible for one of his subordinates mistakes was not a rare experience for Chuuya, but never had it been this major before.

Akutagawa had burned bridges with a influential group of clients, one of the largest businesses in the city, without permission. Now that action was bad for Akutagawa, and slightly bad for Chuuya.

Or it would have been slightly bad if not for the fact that Mori was possibly doubting Chuuya's abilities. The Boss had actually felt the need to call in Chuuya for a personal visit, just to check if Akutagawa had been given permission.

The doors opened. Pleasantries were exchanged. The question was asked. The abrupt and truthful answer had been 'no'. Other current events of note were discussed for a few moments.

Chuuya fell silent, Mori looked at his right hand empathetically. The look on the Boss's made him appear if he was trying to find the words. More likely, a 'speech' had been written by Mori and memorized.

Elise was in the midst of using crayons to draw a bloody body on his desk, that rather ruined the 'caring' image the Boss was currently going for. Mori smiled warmly, "Chuuya, as all Executives, you have had minor trouble with those under you before."

The Boss paused, Chuuya decided to wait to hear the rest of the speech before he replied.

"But this time, a harsh punishment for the offense must be meted out or Akutagawa will not learn. You have permission to do whatever you wish with him," Mori stated and folded his hands.

"Of course, Boss. I will punish him myself for his infraction."

Mori nodded, "there is nothing else, have a wonderful day."

Chuuya bowed and left.

In the Port Mafia, anything goes meant anything goes, but Mori summarily saying 'anything goes' to Chuuya implied torture. However, the redhead would prefer not to waste his time or efforts in cultivating Akutagawa with slowly breaking or tearing apart his subordinate. A simpler and efficient solution would be used.

XXX

Chuuya stood in front of his subordinate, arms crossed, "Akutagawa, do you realize what you did?" The boy stood ram rod straight, his face carefully blank.

"You were foolish. The actions you took were an amount of moronic type, if not for your gift, your life would be forfeited," Chuuya lectured.

"It was necessary," Akutagawa interrupted, "damage-"

The boy doubled over as he was punched between his ribs. The force sent him flying backwards into a wall.

"You destroyed all hopes of a truce, nevermind an alliance. And you did it without permission," the redhead coldly denounced. Chuuya strolled over to his gasping subordinate.

Akutagawa choked once again, he desperately tried to get air back into his lungs. A gloved hand wrapped around the teen's throat. The hand constricted and put pressure around Akutagawa's windpipe. He could barely breathe. Pain radiated throughout his body.

Chuuya drove another punch into Akutagawa's chest. This time however, he did not aim for the solar plexus. Akutagawa cried out as he felt one of his ribs crack.

In the shape of a thin arrow, Rashomon instinctively lunged for Chuuya's torso. The redhead looked down the second he heard the quiet rustle of Akutagawa's coat and leapt back. A red glow now surrounded Akutagawa and Rashomon.

The arrow was being held still, about three inches from the ginger Executive's clothes. He looked up and Akutagawa cursed his instincts. In the dim light, Chuuya's eyes gleamed a deadly serious sapphire.

"Attacking an Executive? Are you trying to break one Port Mafia rule a day?" The redhead's voice turned sarcastically wondering.

Akutagawa suddenly found himself swiftly drifting upwards, as if someone had reversed the training room's gravity. And seeing the red glow that encompassed him, Akutagawa could see who the culprit was. The teen slammed against the ceiling, the back of his head immediately started to ache.

A sharp knife was held to his throat. Akutagawa tried to take small breaths, slightly panicking inside at how close he could be to dying. He could feel his blood pulsing in his veins and the beat of his heart behind his rib cage. Akutagawa had pissed off his superior while being on thin ice.

"No one aside from Gin would give a d**n if you died. Do not disrespect me like that again, or I will take your life," Chuuya threatened.

At the mention of Gin, fury grew in Akutagawa's eyes. His sister would be alone, he couldn't die now. A glare from his superior only made him more angry. Chuuya held the blade closer to Akutagawa's neck in response.

"Do not pull any of this again, or I will kill you. Do you understand?" Chuuya slowly said, a dangerous undercurrent to the words. Akutagawa kept his mouth shut and nodded.

The Executive floated to the ground. Akutagawa floated part of the way, but was let go of about three feet from the floor. The fall would've gifted the teen with a broken nose if he hadn't turned his face sideways.

"Go to the infirmary. I'll make sure Gin knows about your injuries," the redhead ordered. His eyes quickly swept over his subordinate's wounded body to check that the kid wouldn't die from them, then he departed.

Akutagawa peeled himself up from the ground. The boy staggered slightly as he made his way to the infirmary, a hand wrapped around his tender chest. His broken rib stabbed him with pain with every shuffling step.

XXX

Chuuya scowled and lit a cigarette. Smoking always helped calm him down.

Physical pain had been the way Dazai taught the kid. Unfortunately, the method had been ingrained in Akutagawa to the point that something wouldn't stick with numbskull without it.

Hopefully, Akutagawa would wisen up some after this, Chuuya thought Akutagawa would at least. Next time the kid pulled something like this, Mori would tell Chuuya to kill him.

In the Port Mafia, Gifteds were useful, but were sometimes ruled to not be worth the amount of mistakes they made. Firing was not the option for Port Mafia Gifteds that made too much trouble, unless we're talking about a firing squad. But that's a non-efficient style of execution for a criminal organization.

XXX

Age 21

The only light came from the cigarette between Chuuya's lips and the moonlight that streamed through the high up windows. The dim lighting cast deep shadow on all corners of the warehouse. Tarp covered crates and empty pallets filled the supposedly abandoned building.

Chuuya grimaced. A bat had been slammed onto the redhead's left hand. He clenched and flexed his fingers to test how much pain there was around the tube shaped patch in his palm.

Akutagawa furrowed his eyebrows at the pale well manicured hands of his superior. The red bruise made the faint long and round silver scars that trailed and splotched Chuuya's palm stand out.

"Chuuya-san, do you know how to catch bullets?"

The redhead frowned and glanced at his subordinate. "...Yes, why?"

Akutagawa's eyes widened. 'Was that why?' "When I was sixteen, Dazai-san started training me to have Rashomon to catch knives, bricks, and..eventually bullets."

Chuuya snorted. "Are you wondering if why he did that was because of me?"

Akutagawa frowned and admitted, "yes."

"Perhaps. That was one of the ways we trained when we were sixteen. He often joked around and interrupted my focus. I could have a lot less scars if he didn't do that." The redhead grumbled at the end.

Akutagawa stared at his superior, his eyes bitter. 'Now, I see, he was holding me to the standard of you. You're the standard.'

XXX

Age 22

It had been a day of sudden rain and sudden sun. Most in the streets of Yokohama carried an umbrella, wore a raincoat or carried a folded up plastic version.

The weather led to a coincidence of Double Black being in the same area. Dazai was drenched and looking for a place to warm up and eat at. On the other hand, Chuuya had the sense to bring an umbrella and a poncho when he left his apartment, but was looking for a nice local restaurant for his lunch break.

Dazai spotted a motorcycle parked in front of a restaurant. It was well taken care of: the metal was shiny, the leather seat had no cracks or lines, and the treads of the wheels looked brand new.

The detective smirked upon remembering who the bike belonged to. He immediately decided to eat at those restaurant and try to find the motorcycle's owner.

"How many seats?" The employee asked.

"Two, but I'm looking for my friend. He should already be here, short, red hair?" Dazai asked and then spotted the familiar splash of red from the corner of his eye. "There he is! I'll go join him."

Chuuya Nakahara sat in a corner booth. He had an old blue umbrella leaned against his bench. Dazai cheerily smiled at the sight. His old partner was sentimental, that much hadn't changed.

Dazai plopped down on the opposite side and brightly exclaimed, "what a coincidence."

Upon seeing his older partner, Chuuya clicked his tongue in annoyance and glanced out the window. "Why are you here? Wait... you saw my motorcycle didn't you, you waste of bandages?"

Dazai chuckled and shrugged, "yup. I'm surprised you're still have that motorcycle."

"Well what else was I going to keep around? My car? Oh, wait, you blew it up," the annoyed redhead snarked.

Dazai smirked and opened his mouth, ready to counter.

Just then the waiter arrived. The two looked at each other, Chuuya sighed and resigned himself to having lunch with his ex-partner. They ordered drinks and then food. The interval between ordering food and the food's arrival was spent insulting each other's tastes.

Their orders arrived. Chuuya had gotten a half sandwich, half soup. Dazai got two sandwiches. They ribbed and insulted each other for a while.

Chuuya abruptly brought up the recent happenings. "You complimented Akutagawa."

Dazai cheerfully smiled, "that I did. What of it?"

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at his ex-partner. "Because...never mind." "Oh?" Dazai asked and raised an eyebrow. "Anyways, you haven't messed up Atsushi like Akutagawa, yet. So congratulations, Mackerel," Chuuya sardonically praised.

XXX

Age 23

Dazai and Chuuya had been literally backed into a corner. A maniac ability user had taken control of a gang. The crowd wielded bats, metal pipes, and knives.

Dazai raised a sly eyebrow at Chuuya, 'are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

The redhead sighed, 'unfortunately, I think it's a yes.' Dazai smirked .

They made a mess, but for the first time in a long time they didn't mind doing it together.

A/N

'Slug' is Chuuya, ^)))) is Dazai.

-Silver


	7. Shoulder

"It offers them a shoulder to cry on of someone who understands. This shows them that if they are angry or sad, it's ok."

-Remble

Age 13

Dazai watched as a furious redhead punched the oak tree outside of Port Mafia HQ. Chips of bark and soft wood came off with each resounding thud.

"Is your target a tree this time, chibi-chan?" The brunette asked with a smirk.

"If you'd prefer me to punch you instead of the tree, keep talking," Chuuya threatened.

Dazai widened his eyes and mock seriously joked, "but you're hurting the environment Chuuya-chan."

"Nobody cares. One tree is not going to make a difference, Dazai," the redhead huffed in frustration and punched once again.

"What if everyone thought that and acted on that? The number of trees would drop rapidly. The environment is important. Without it we would die."

"That's stupidly unrealistic. A majority of people do not have the want or time to spend their days killing trees. And actually most of our air recycling comes from not from trees, but the other trillions of plants," Chuuya scoffed.

"Who knows, it could happen," Dazai playfully continued his joking suggestion.

He couldn't suppress the crooked grin on his face.

"Yeah...when pigs fly," the redhead retorted.

Dazai considered his partner sufficiently calmed down and decided to brave the possible backlash. "What were you angry about?"

Chuuya leaned against the oak tree. His voice was solid as he stated, "I failed my mission. I'm getting punished later."

Dazai widened his eyes in genuine surprise. The question of if Chuuya was joking died at the dark frown on the redhead's lips.

"How many?"

"Twenty five today, twenty five after my next job."

Dazai winced. Fifty in total, Chuuya must have messed up horribly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not now," the redhead grumbled.

"How many splinters have you gotten?" The brunette curiously asked. His partner stopped attacking the tree for a moment and glanced at his hands.

"I know where Mori has his medical supplies," Dazai happily chirped.

XXX

Dazai carefully pulled out another splinter. Chuuya flinched.

"Next time you punch a tree, wear gloves," Dazai suggested.

"Yeah, yeah."

XXX

Age 16

Chuuya stared at the insane man who sat next to him. Unusually, the insane man was not Dazai and the insanity wasn't evident by constant chatter of ways to commit suicide or how to take over rival organizations.

No, this maniac was practically pouring spices into his already mouth scalding curry. Chuuya knew it was mouth scalding, because he had ordered the same curry a few minutes before.

The man glanced at the redhead, an amused smile on his face, "hello, is there a reason you're staring at me?"

"I'm concerned for your mental health," Chuuya dryly admitted.

The man took a sip of the concoction he'd call normal, others would claim that it burned in their mouth like a hot coal. "Ah, about my curry? To be honest, this is mild for me."

The redhead shot the man an incredulous look at the statement. "How? I'm barely surviving my own."

The man chuckled, "I guess it's an acquired taste. My name is Sakunosuke Oda, a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Chuuya Nakahara, a pleasure to meet you as well. You're the Gifted who carries guns but doesn't kill, right?" The redhead asked in a hushed voice. The two mafioso were all too aware of the strangers around them.

"That would be me. I've heard about you from Dazai."

"That b*d? What'd the moron say?" Chuuya softly growled.

"He was talking about suicide attempts, then said 'Chuuya could stop this one', and appeared quite crestfallen."

The redhead rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, "of course he predicts whether I could stop him."

A few comfortable seconds passed. The two took another few bites of their hot meals, although one enjoyed the food far more than the other.

Odasaku tilted his head, already curious at the answer he would be given, "how difficult is it to work with Dazai?"

"I'd rather eat rocks for the rest of my life then work once more with an annoying bandage wasting suicidal mackerel," Chuuya replied without missing a beat.

A few minutes passed without any more conversation between them.

The redhead finished his food and cracked his neck. He placed enough money on the counter to cover his bill and left with a polite, "see you around, Oda."

XXX

Age 18

Chuuya had gotten back from his trip early. Not that he would tell Mori, the redhead was taking a day to relax.

Of course, just as Chuuya was getting into the American tv show he had on, someone knocked on the door. He sighed, turned the tv off, and went to see who it was. Dazai stood at the door, red eyed and smelling like smoke.

"Have you been smoking?" Chuuya incredulously asked.

"Have you been smoking?" Dazai parroted back. The mocking was flat, it was without the usual gusto.

"You don't smoke," Chuuya stated blandly. His lips narrowed to a thin line, "come in."

His partner strolled in. His eyes were blank, that wasn't uncommon. The shattered, open look on his face was a novelty that alerted Chuuya to something being very wrong. What had happened in the past few days, the redhead could only guess at.

Dazai swept his gaze around the apartment, there was no changes he could find. The place was Chuuya, spotlessly clean and overflowing with potted plants and beautiful paintings.

"Tea, coffee, or water?" The redhead asked.

"Not going to offer me wine or whiskey?" Dazai joked as he sat down on the couch.

"Tea, coffee, or water," Chuuya repeated.

The brunette hummed in thought, "what kind of tea?"

"Peppermint, I already had a pot of it going."

"Peppermint tea then."

Chuuya nodded and went into the small kitchen.

Dazai glanced around the living room once more, this time taking note of the places Chuuya hid his large arsenal of weapons. A few spots had changed, although they hadn't been evident in the brief glances Dazai had previously given his surroundings.

Chuuya passed a scalding mug to Dazai, and sat down on the opposite side of the couch.

"What happened?" The redhead interrogated.

His face was solemn and his voice was quiet as he explained, "Odasaku died three days ago."

"Odasaku was a good man," was all Chuuya could murmur in reply.

"That he was."

Dazai took a sip of the hot tea. The icy flavor of fresh peppermint flooded his mouth.

Chuuya thought of how unusual this was. At three days, Dazai would be trying to drink his woes away at Lupin's, not going to Chuuya, unless...

"What happened with Ango?"

Dazai gave a frigid smirk, "he was a spy for the government." Chuuya raised an eyebrow, currently, he would take his partner's word for it.

The tea had started getting cold when Chuuya asked about the elephant in the room. "How'd Oda die?" Dazai stayed silent. The redhead frowned, "Dazai...tell me. It doesn't do either of us any good if you shut up right now."

The brunette balled a hand into a fist. His gaze was on his mug, but his mind was far away, "there was an enemy ability group called Mimic. They targeted Oda, killed his orphans."

Chuuya grimaced, "then that idiot felt he had no reason to live?"

"Yes, he destroyed Mimic, and then died."

"And?"

"Port Mafia has a business permit now," Dazai revealed.

Chuuya's eyes widened and he clenched his teeth. "Did he...?"

"It was all Mori," Dazai cheerfully confirmed, "a brilliant plan. I didn't realize what was happening til the end."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Was there a second purpose to Boss's plan?" Chuuya bluntly asked. Mori's plots were like a never-ending onion, there were always multiple reasons and happenings, few could ever get to the middle.

Dazai took a sip of his lukewarm tea, "possibly, to drive me away, because I think, he thinks, that I will kill him eventually."

"And, why is he worried about that? Other then dying, obviously," the redhead asked the obvious question.

"I don't know, hat rack," Dazai bluntly replied.

Chuuya looked up at the ceiling and thought for a few moments. "Well...Boss killed the previous boss to stop unnecessary bloodshed."

Dazai raised an eyebrow, "so?"

"Stop playing dumb, waste of bandages. You're vindictive, petty, immature, and one of the most clever men alive," Chuuya insulted.

"Mori is afraid of what I'll become in a few years," Dazai concluded with a slight frown. His thoughts had strayed that way that way, but he had always dismissed the 'why' as utterly uncharacteristic for Mori.

"Not just the future, but the present. His annoying apprentice has grown up...with a lack of morals deemed concerning even by mafia standards," Chuuya muttered.

The tea had gone cold by the time Dazai asked what had really been on his mind when he went to his partner's place.

"Should I leave?" Dazai asked. He wasn't talking about leaving Chuuya's apartment, both of them knew that.

Chuuya frowned, he didn't like where this conversation was going, but kept his mouth shut.

"Odasaku told me something before he died. He said to...become a good man, to join the side that...Anyways, I might, or I might not. I haven't decided," Dazai revealed. His eyes, an empty chocolate brown, locked gazes with his partner's fiery sapphire.

Chuuya looked away and up at his cream ceiling. That was the choice: Stay and have clashes with Mori in the future, or leave, be hunted, and start a new life. The redhead stared at his partner, trying to impress upon the brunette the gravity of whatever he decided. "It's your choice."

It was those three words, bluntly stated, that pushed Dazai to make his decision.

"Yeah, my choice," the brunette softly agreed.

XXX

Age 22

Frustration boiled within Chuuya. He had failed once again. Thirty nine, dead. Thirty nine that would never see another day. Thirty nine he would never see again. The thud, thud, thud, of his hands against the bark of an old oak was the only thing he was aware of as he vented.

"Well, at least you're wearing gloves this time," Dazai commented, the man sat on the soft grass with a smile. The detective snuck up on his distracted ex-partner fairly easily. A rampaging gorilla could have run past and Chuuya wouldn't notice.

Chuuya's frustration boiled over and turned into anger. "Shut up!"

"How many-" The detective began to ask. Chuuya gritted his teeth and swung with all his might. The rest of Dazai's question was drowned out by the mighty tree that crashed into the river.

Water splashed over Chuuya, soaking his pants and vest. His knuckles were sore from their harsh treatment and his head spun from rage mixed with the memories of his dead comrades. He took a breath and doused the wrath that swirled inside him.

"Thirty nine," Chuuya muttered in reply. His head now cool, he strode over and sat down next to Dazai.

Dazai briefly stared at the wide tall stump and the top of the tree that be lay in the water. He sympathetically observed, "that is a lot of people."

Chuuya choked back a cynical laugh, "yeah...it is."

XXX

There was a lone gravestone on a hill by Yokohama's bay. Two bouquets of flowers had been laid beside it. In the rock's shade, a charming bunch of pink and red cyclamens had sat for hours and were still slightly wet from the morning dew. In the dim sunlight, a fresh cluster of pink carnations, hydrangeas, and irises were loosely held together by a tan ribbon.

A few feet away, a man in a trenchcoat lay on the grass. He watched the clouds, hands behind his head, a nostalgic smile on his face.

The swish of grass on black dress shoes interrupted his thoughts. A elegant bouquet of dark green Ivy leaves and flowering magnolia blossoms was leaned against the tombstone with a quiet 'snick' from the plastic. Dazai tilted his head to see who it was.

His curiosity only grew at the slanted sight of his ginger ex-partner. After a few seconds of silence, Chuuya Nakahara strolled over and laid down in the grass. The two men wandered through their thoughts and memories, they remembered their mutual dead friend with no small bit of kindness and sorrow.

"Huh, that looks like a lion," the redhead idly commented.

Dazai blinked and peered closer at the sky, one the large clouds did indeed like a lion. "You're right. The one on the left looks is a fish."

"Hmm, what type of fish?"

"A mackerel?" Dazai jokingly suggested. The wide 'fish' they were talking about was closer to a sunfish then the skinny mackerel.

Chuuya snorted, "and I guess that one far above the right looks like a slug."

The small 'slug' quickly broke into wisps.

They pointed out vaguely familiar shapes in the clouds and joked about them. While together, they pushed their sorrow into the dark deep recesses of their minds. But when it came time to depart, they paid their respects to their friend and smiled bittersweetly as they walked away.

XXX

For four years, Chuuya had no one to turn to when things got bad and dark. Dazai had no one he could open up to, talk to truthfully. They had lost the comradery of a trusted equal. They almost forgot what it was like. The forgotten memories came flooding back when they fought together during the Guild attack.

They were different, but it was mostly a good different. Dazai's smiles were more sincere and Chuuya was less hot tempered in decision making. They had gotten older, a little wiser, perhaps not more mature.

With the lack of dying on both ends, maybe? Maybe they had a shoulder to put an arm around or cry on once again.

A/N

If anyone wondered as to who put the Cyclamens there, it was Ango. He visited Odasaku's grave before he went to work.

Meanings of flowers from the website 'aggie horticulture'.

Cyclamen=resignation and goodbye

Pink carnation=I won't forget you

Hydrangeas= Thank you for understanding

Iris= Your friendship means so much to me

Ivy=affection, friendship

Magnolia=nobility

-Silver


	8. Nightmares

"Why does the mind do such things? Turn on us, rend us, dig the claws in. If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. Maybe it's much the same."

― Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

They only talked to each other about their nightmares. That was what they confided in each other, their darkest thoughts and darkest fears. But as it usually was with them, it started by coincidence and without a semblance of comfort.

Age 9

Dazai buried his face into his pillow. Tears ran down his face and muffled sobs echoed through his room.

In his fright, he forgot about the redhead kid who had been staying over at Mori's house since Kouyou left for a week long mission.

Chuuya woke up with a flinch, his subconscious had identified the sobs as of the immensely painful sort. Yet, he did not interfere and only stared at the ceiling, lips pressed into a thin line.

XXX

Age 10

Chuuya repeatedly flexed his fingers, the distraction the only thing stopping from freaking out. If he lost control, it was likely that the entire room would be flipped upside down.

Mori had a patient who needed several hours of surgery, therefore Dazai was under Kouyou's roof for the night.

The brunette rolled over and tried to sleep. But, he found that he could not block out the sounds and sleep. Dazai was kept up by the whimpers that emanated from his roommate.

XXX

Age 11

Dazai twitched and jerked in his sleep. This had already gone on for the past five nights and Chuuya was very determined to ignore it.

Tonight, however, was the first time Dazai had cried out in his sleep. The sound grated on Chuuya's ears and the child possessing those ears awoke with a grimace.

The second cry rang out and Chuuya decided that he must something about it. His heart twisted uncomfortably in his chest as he silently crawled towards his temporary roommate.

Chuuya shook Dazai's shoulder and hissed, "Dazai, wake up."

The brunette opened his eyes, they were wide with terror from whatever he had been dreaming. He hurriedly scooted backwards from Chuuya.

The redhead recoiled as well, swiftly withdrawing his hand as the other boy moved away. Chuuya pursed his lips and cautiously asked, "are you okay?"

At the question, the open gate to Dazai's emotions fell with a metaphorical bang. A blank expression settled on his face and he nodded.

XXX

Age 12

Dazai stared at the wall. But due to the lack of light in the room, it was more that he was staring at a point which seemed to only include the void.

He had fallen asleep the moment he got home and had not waken from a nightmare of his. No, it was not his dreadful dream, but the mutterings of a redhead remembering the recent past.

"Mr. Yamato, Mr. Yamato," Chuuya mumbled in his sleep. His tone was soft, but it was chock-full of distress.

Dazai knew when his partner-to-be woke up by the quick choked breath and sob that followed after.

"I'm..." Dazai trailed off, for the first time in his life it was a struggle to find the right words. "Sorry."

At the moment, Dazai predicted that the redhead was in a state of shock and moved to take advantage. In a rush, the brunette spilled out his thoughts. "I'm sorry I killed Mr. Yamato and our colleagues. But it was necessary to both of us to be safe. I'm sorry if what I did caused you to..."

'To have any nightmares' was the ending that went unsaid but both of them knew.

Chuuya rolled over onto his side, facing Dazai even though the room was in absolute darkness. "I understand, apology accepted. I doubt you even can not rule people out as worthless to you. So, don't spring something like that on me again or I will kill you in the most painful way I know."

"...I agree to your terms. Do you...want to talk about your nightmare?" Dazai suggested. Being sappy was not his thing.

Chuuya weakly chuckled, "you really suck at being comforting."

XXX

Age 17

Chuuya shivered, he could still feel the hands grabbing his wrists. The warm skin against his. He got up and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, but he hesitated before lighting up. His room would smell horribly for months, even years, if he smoked here and now.

He crossed his arms and made his way to the living room. As expected, his insomniac partner was sprawled on the couch, legs dangling over the edge.

"Nightmare?" Dazai asked, his eyes were still closed. He was in a tank top and shorts. As usual, his bandages covered everything in sight but his hands and feet.

"Yeah," the redhead said and opened a window. He lit up and watched the smoke trail out of the window. Chuuya tapped his fingers against his side.

"I bet you can't stop smoking for two weeks."

"What?"

"I bet you can't stop smoking for two weeks," Dazai repeated with a smirk.

"And if I win?" Chuuya grinned rather maniacally.

"If you win I'll train the next batch of recruits for ten days, if you lose you finish up their training by yourself."

Chuuya smirked, "you're on, it starts tomorrow." He paused and tapped his fingers against his leg in thought. "Hmm….I bet…you can't go 24 hours without mentioning something suicide related."

Dazai grinned and leaned forward, "oh? The terms?"

"If you lose you do our laundry for a week, if you win I do it," Chuuya explained. He inhaled another lungful of smoke.

"I accept, this is going to be easy," Dazai languidly responded.

Chuuya held his cigarette out of the window, trying not to drop it as he laughed. "I think it's going to be a bit harder than you expect."

"Are you going to grow out your hair?" Dazai suddenly asked.

"Maybe," Chuuya replied with a shrug.

Dazai opened his eyes and shot his partner a mischievous glance, "if you do you're going to look like a girl. That is, even more like a girl."

Chuuya stuck out his tongue in reply. He inhaled, and exhaled out the window once again.

Dazai closed his eyes again and smirked, "want to make a bet about it?"

"Like I would turn a challenge down," Chuuya replied. He motioned for his partner to move and carelessly sat down on the couch. Dazai quickly moved his legs as he didn't want to be crushed.

"What do I have to do if I lose?" Chuuya asked and crushed his cigarette butt into the sand of an ashtray on the table.

They spent the rest of the night making bets to pass the time, some were ridiculous and some were serious. However, the activity accomplished Dazai's two objectives: 1) Distract Chuuya and hopefully himself. 2) Get Chuuya to stop smoking, the smell was atrocious.

XXX

Age 18

Dazai trembled underneath his blankets. Not from the cold, but from the nightmare he had just wrenched himself out of.

He saw no point to staying in bed. Laying down would only bring his thoughts back to his nightmare. Dazai slipped on a button up shirt and long pants, he would likely not return to his bedroom for several hours.

He quietly slipped out of the room. Dazai crept past Chuuya's door and entered the kitchen. He turned on the coffee pot and started to cook eggs and bacon.

When the coffee and food was done, he filled a mug with coffee and put half of the eggs on a plate for the resident sleepy ball of rage that would soon be awake.

Dazai went into the living room, balancing his plate on his fingertips. He sat down, put his cup on the table, and quickly devoured his food.

He took a few sips of his hot coffee, it had creamer of course. Chuuya was the one who could drink tar (black coffee) without grimacing.

Eventually, Dazai's thoughts strayed once again to his dream. A sudden desperate notion clawed its way to the forefront of his mind, 'I need to check.'

He needed to see, he needed to be reassured that this wasn't a dream. That this wasn't just a continuation of his nightmare.

In his dream, there had been many unpleasant sensations. The stickiness of the duck tape around his hands. The chuckles when he grimaced, the laughter when he screamed. Him retching onto a white concrete floor. The several inches of open stove heated metal that provided the only light. The pain, the brands in his arms that were still bright red and scorching hot.

Dazai unraveled the bandages on his left forearm and carefully brushed his fingers over the skin.

The marks were a light baby pink and didn't hurt. Otherwise, Dazai's arm appeared to have no other wounds. Old silvery scars hid easily on his pale skin, the only noticeable tell was the slight ridges

Dazai took a breath of relief and picked up his coffee cup. At least, now, he was certain that this was reality.

XXX

An alarm went off, but unlike most people's blaring alarms, this one has been customized. If one was to be woken by sounds, Chuuya preferred several wind chimes blown by the wind. It stopped him from destroying his clocks.

The redhead got up, stretched out his sore arms, brushed his hair, and headed to the kitchen. A plated pile of eggs were set on the counter, along with a cup of coffee. He smelled bacon, but apparently Dazai had decided to be petty and not give him any.

As Chuuya thought of it, it was rather unusual that Dazai had gotten up before him. The only possibility was a nightmare, a rather bad one.

Chuuya grabbed his plate and cup before heading the living room. Dazai sat on one side of the weathered brown couch, a lukewarm half drunk cup of coffee on the table. The brunette was staring at the wall. His gaze was empty, glazed over, as he mostly likely thought over the plans for today's operations while trying to push away bad memories.

The redhead dithered about at the living room entrance before he made a decision. He walked in and sat, on the opposite side of the couch to give his partner some space. Chuuya pretended not to notice that every thirty seconds, Dazai cautiously inched closer to him.

Chuuya picked up his coffee and turned his back to his partner.

Both Dazai and Chuuya were the type of person who had to do something when bored or scared. In those situations, they talked, walked, but many times they could not. And so their hands were in constant motion: tapping, twisting, and fidgeting...It was all to distract themselves from the thoughts they didn't like.

And so, Chuuya made no comment when Dazai started to play with his hair. The redhead tolerated the various types of ponytails and braids, having decided to focus on his coffee and only intervene if Dazai pulled out his phone to take blackmail pictures. Despite his gloomy state, the brunette actually chuckled at the wild non-symmetrical three ponytail he briefly made. Eventually, Dazai started on an intricate braid made of multiple braids.

Dazai had almost finished the hair doo when a notification popped up.

7:30 Leave for work, meeting

Note: Mori will be annoyed if you're late for the meeting

Dazai stuck out his tongue and quickly undid the braids. He chirped, "dibs on shotgun, race you to the car," and ran out of the room.

Chuuya clicked his tongue and sped after his partner, "Dazai! You cheated, you a*e!"

"Cheating? Who have guessed that a Port Mafia Executive would cheat!" Dazai yelled back sarcastically.

XXX

Age 19

Ango was drowning. Dazai felt himself watch the scene with unsurprising apathy; Aside from a twisted sense of sadism as the waterlogged man desperately pounded against a glass cage. Ango's glasses felt off his nose and drifted to the bottom.

The scene shifted to Mori behind his desk. An empty polite smile stretched along his face. Dazai shrank back at the sight, but boldly sneered at the older man. He had left the Port Mafia, Mori was his former mentor not his owner. The doctor would never be allowed to use his former protege as a pawn again, Dazai would not let him.

The sneer fell as several memories surfaced in the form of videos playing on tv screens. All were of Mori bandaging him up after almost daily brushes with death, usually failed suicide attempts. Dazai scowled, then sadly frowned as the memories went on.

There was a sharp crack of glass breaking, Dazai whirled around. He stepped through the open window, carefully avoiding the sharp edges. In the middle of a wrecked building was a bloodstained Chuuya, caught in the throes of Corruption. The bright red lines of slinked along his skin, the diamond like swirls appeared as ominous eyes. He staggered and choked up blood.

The scene changed, Chuuya appeared, Corruption had not been activated. However, his eyes were bloodshot and empty bottles of wine scattered around him. Chuuya was staring at the pistol that innocently lay on the table before him.

"No, no, no," Dazai whispered, as if that would change anything. As if that would force his subconscious to not fulfill the dreaded prediction Dazai made upon seeing this scenario.

Chuuya picked up the gun, gave a hollow grin, and pulled the trigger. His blue eyes closed blissfully as the bullet rammed into his heart.

Dazai rushed over to his fallen partner, heart hammering in his ears from adrenaline. He shakily picked up the still warm body, he tried to stop the blood that streamed out and down Chuuya's chest with a pale hand.

And suddenly it was not Chuuya, but Odasaku. His eyes empty and gone, because he was dead, he was gone. He was not here, not anywhere in the world, not anywhere Dazai could go right now.

Dazai woke up with a grimace and brushed away the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

'Anything I never want to lose it is always lost. It is a given that everything worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it,' he cynically repeated what he had said at the bar that night.

Dazai bit his lip, his eyes heavy and dark. 'It's true, so true. Why does it have to always be true?' He asked himself, the universe, any being out there that could hear him.

He previously had little pleasure from life, some small moments of happiness. Drinking with Ango and Odasaku, trolling and trading clever jabs with Chuuya, trying to subtly mess with Mori, and making jokes that made Kouyou sigh with exasperation.

But now, life held no joy, he didn't fully know why he hadn't tried to end it in the past few months. He was in the deepest low he had ever been in, he constantly thought of attempting suicide. But for some reason Odasaku's last words would play in his head every time his finger got near the trigger of a gun, the handle of a knife, or a decent sized length of rope.

He noticed his arms as he reached for a bottle, it made him pause for a second. Dazai had always been skinny, but his arms were now more like sticks then flesh and bones. He shooed the thought away as he grabbed the whiskey and take a gulp of the fiery liquid.

Dazai was tired, he was always tired. Tired of the world and always willingly to surrender himself to his dreams. But for now, as he could apparently not bear killing himself due to Odasaku's advice, he drank himself into oblivion. He had no hope that tomorrow would be different in any way.

XXX

Age 22

The Slug

Online

Dazai frowned at his screen. It was unlike the redhead to be on his phone for several hours in a row, especially at night.

The intrigue grew as he stared at the word, 'online'. What caused Chuuya to be up? A crisis of some sort? One Dazai hadn't heard of?

To satisfy his curiosity, Dazai decided to go find his ex-partner. Even if it meant crashing a secret Port Mafia meeting with Mori or another group (for eg. he Special Abilities Department).

The brunette detective closed the door to his apartment and energetically hummed a melancholic tune.

Atsushi peeked out of his apartment door. Once he saw who it was, he stepped outside. In a hushed voice he asked, "Dazai-san, where are you going?"

Dazai grinned, pushing his plans to the back of his mind. "I'm going to go try out a new suicide method. Wish me luck, if I succeed, I won't be back in the morning," he easily fibbed.

"Um, okay?" Atsushi awkwardly replied.

"See you later! Or not, that is," Dazai cheerfully said and strolled off.

Atsushi went back inside to his apartment. Who got up at 4 in the morning to commit suicide? Heck, it was even known to everyone in the office that Dazai vehemently hated mornings. Which made what the heck that was even more weird. Atsushi was tired and decided to give up on trying to figure out his eccentric mentor tonight.

Kyouka was sitting up on her futon, eyes focused on her roommate. "Who was it?"

"Dazai, he said he was going to attempt a new form of suicide," Atsushi replied with a shrug.

The former assassin blinked in disbelief, "at 4 AM?"

The weretiger sighed and dropped onto his futon. "For some reason, yes."

XXX

Chuuya was curled up in a pile of blankets on his bed. He had been scrolling through various social media sites as a distraction.

His eyes were bloodshot and bleary, but lack of sleep did not make them slower when they snapped towards his door. Out of reasonable paranoia, the ginger executive grabbed the knife under his pillow with clumsy fingers.

The hinges creaked and the painted plank of wood swung inward.

"Hello?" A familiar voice happily asked. Dazai stood in the doorway with a small smirk, his eyes just as bloodshot as his ex-partner's.

Chuuya locked his phone with a click and let go of his knife. "What the h*l do you want?"

Dazai shrugged, "I saw that you were up, it was unusual, I was curious."

"So you decided to break into my apartment? You really need to stop doing that," Chuuya deadpanned as he set his phone down on his pile of blankets.

"Sorry, sorry, I thought you were in trouble of some sort," Dazai replied and sat on the edge of the redhead's bed.

Chuuya rolled his eyes, "as you can see, I'm not in any danger. Although knowing you, you'd probably try to make it wor-"

"-Well, or you had a nightmare," the brunette detective slyly interjected with a musing lilt. His ex-partner grimaced and looked away.

"Guess I guessed correctly," Dazai chirped.

Chuuya glared, "yeah, and you still suck at being comforting, a*e."

XXX

"Dazai's still not here," Kunikida growled. The blond glared at the office door, his lazy partner had been notably absent this morning. "Atsushi, do you know anything about what that b*d is up to?"

Atsushi flinched as the severely annoyed gaze of his senior landed on him. The weretiger stammered, "well-well, Dazai went out really late last night. He said he was trying out a new way to commit suicide."

"That f*g b*d." Kunikida whipped out his phone and called his partner. "Why the h*l aren't you at work?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry you weren't informed about my day off, Kunikida," Dazai cheerfully replied. That was a lie, the brunette specifically asked the President not to tell his partner. By some miracle and after some pleading, the white haired man agreed.

Kunikida growled, but kept his annoyance in check. "Dazai, did you actually attempt suicide at 4 in the morning?"

On the other side of the line, Dazai blinked. That was what his partner was questioning about this? "Of course I did," Dazai affirmed.

Technically, he did sort of attempt suicide by popping up in his exhausted ex-partner's apartment without notice. When sleep deprived, Chuuya's self control and moral compass tended to take a leave of absence.

Speaking of Yokohama's ball of rage, he was sitting across from Dazai at a fast food restaurant for breakfast. Chuuya was tapping his fingers on the table as he scrolled through a page on his phone.

Dazai smirked, "anyways, our food is done. Bye Kunikida, don't bust a vein from annoyance!"

Kunikida glared at his phone and the static that now emanated from it.

XXX

Age 23

Dazai woke up, unshed tears in his eyes. He brushed them away with the back of his hand.

The smell of burning flesh sat heavily in his nostrils.

On the floor, a few feet away lay a heap of blankets, red hair sticking out.

'Ah, right, I asked Chuuya to stay over,' Dazai fuzzily thought. He stood up, swaying slightly from grogginess.

The detective headed to his small kitchen. 'How about...coffee?'

The sound of water in the small coffee maker brought a sense of reassurance to Dazai. He could get through the day as long as he had a cup of hot java.

He headed back to his mat, eyes still half lidded. Dazai sat on his futon and yawned.

Chuuya scrunched up his eyes and then opened them.

Dazai's hair was matted on one side. The detective blinked blearily. Chuuya held back a snort at the sight, his ex-partner looked like a befuddled owl. The ginger sat up and touched his tangled hair, it was full of knots due to the way he slept.

"Nightmare?" Chuuya asked as he cracked his neck.

Dazai stared at the wall, his eyes hollow, "...yeah. I put the coffee maker on. It should be done in a minute."

The redhead nodded. "What was it about?"

"The iron burns."

"Ah," Chuuya murmured, his guess was correct. "Do you want to talk or no?"

Dazai's smile was thin yet sharp, "avoid talking about it."

Chuuya sighed, "alright. Do you want to help me out with my hair?"

"Sure, I'll grab a brush," Dazai quietly replied and headed to the bathroom.

A/N

This is a dark, sad, chapter but I love that my premise for this was: Grown traumatized criminals having impromptu sleepovers together.

Five symptoms of major depression: "...diminished ability to feel pleasure, unexplained tiredness, a reduced ability to think clearly, a recurring preoccupation with suicide, unintentional and/or uncharacteristic weight loss, the presence of uncontrolled or aimless body movements (a phenomenon known as psychomotor agitation), and the recurring or constant presence of strongly "negative" emotions such as worthlessness, hopelessness, guilt, sadness or helplessness." mood-disorders/new-definition-of-depression-includes-sustained-grief/

-Silver


	9. Expectations

"The secret to humor is surprise."- Aristotle

"Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment - that which they cannot anticipate."-Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Age 12

"Prove it," Chuuya snarled.

"Okay, try to hit me," Dazai replied with a shrug.

The redhead immediately took up the challenge and lunged for his partner. Dazai nimbly skipped to the side each time.

After about ten minutes, Chuuya was frustrated and Dazai was smug.

"You can't surprise me," the brunette sang.

XXX

Age 13

Dazai thought Chuuya forgot about that remark he made three months ago. He was wrong.

Dazai smirked, "just like-" His snarky reply was cut off as he fell through the floor and onto a couch below. He looked in shock at the ceiling, a hole in the floor where he previously had stood. Chuuya's face appeared in the large hole, a large Mori-like smirk on his face.

The two boys started laughing. Not the light giggle of a person faking amusement nor the dry chuckle of a man who found a situation mildly humorous. No, they burst in laughter: full throated, belly shaking, asphyxiation causing laughter.

"Okay, I didn't see that coming," Dazai grudgingly admitted, gasping for air.

Chuuya grinned, his face red from laughter. "You should have seen your face when you fell!"

"Well, I hope it will be worth paying for damages," Dazai half joked.

"H*l yeah it is," Chuuya cheerfully shot back.

There's a reason Mori heavily insured most Port Mafia HQ floors.

XXX

Age 14

Chuuya reached in his breast pocket. He had recently discovered the wonderful vice of smoking. However, his pack of twelve was noticeably missing.

"D*t, he stole my cigarettes." Chuuya swore with irritation.

XXX

Age 16

"You lost," Dazai sang with a grin. Between the fingers of his right hand, two bottles of nail polish were loosely held. Chuuya scowled, but resigned himself to his fate.

After five minutes, the ginger Port Mafia Executive's nails were coated in alternating violent red and sky blue.

Chuuya held up his hands, inspecting the horribly painted nails. "Hand the bottles to me. If I'm wearing nail polish, it's not going to look to look like it was done by a blind man."

Dazai complied with a smirk and the redhead set to work.

At a particularly serious expression Chuuya made while painting his left thumb, Dazai let out a sound close to the giggle.

"Did you just f*g giggle?" Chuuya asked, a disgruntled look on his face.

"Yup."

XXX

The next few days were extremely annoying for Chuuya.

Some men in the corridors seemed to hold back chuckles as the teenage executive walked past.

Fortunately Kouyou understood that it was from a Soukoku bet and not some 'phase' Chuuya was going through. Regardless, she smiled and commented, "The red and blue suit you at least."

Chuuya sighed and said goodbye to his older sister.

On the third day, Chuuya showed up for meeting with the Boss and immediately regretted not rescheduling. Mori had a small 'coughing fit' at the sight of his youngest executive's nails. Throughout, Mori tried and failed to suppress a smile; Even while Chuuya leveled a glare at his superior and talked in great detail about a mysterious massacre that happened recently.

One recruit during afternoon training found it particularly funny, and let out a short bark of laughter when he noticed. This young man ended up being the example for the rest of the lesson. If Chuuya was slightly more brutal than usual, the recruits knew to keep their mouths shut about it. No one wanted to end up on the chopping block (the receiving end of Chuuya's kicks).

XXX

The hotel room was small, with a large window facing the street.

Dazai was sprawled out on the bed. He lazily watched his partner put together a Cheytac Intervention near him. The pieces fit together like a puzzle, albeit a very deadly puzzle for any mortal being.

Chuuya finished and moved over to the window to wait. After few minutes of silence, Dazai was very, very bored.

"You don't call them 'targets' or 'marks'. You refer to them by their name, that's very interesting," Dazai mused, hoping to provoke his partner into a conversation.

"Yeah, so?" Chuuya snarked, exasperated.

Dazai grinned and rolled into his stomach. "I just find it interesting. Do you do it to feel more human or because you like playing at being god?"

The redhead glanced at his partner, "What?"

"Snipers tend to be narcissistic and like the feeling of playing god," Dazai explained with a shrug.

"Yeah, that's more you, less me," Chuuya absently replied. His mind was elsewhere, focused solely on his task. If the job wasn't done right, he'd be the one paying for it, not Dazai.

In the busy center of Yokohama, the people in the streets hurried to their destinations. A face stood out to Chuuya, familiar because of the photo in his backpack.

Dazai opened his mouth to say something. "Be quiet, Uchuha's coming," Chuuya sternly ordered and gave a quick glare to his partner.

Dazai smirked and mimed zipping his lips. Chuuya carefully leaned out the window, his gun at a steep downwards incline.

The sleek black metal of the sniper rifle gleamed in the setting sun. Chuuya lined up the shot. It was an extremely awkward angle, but on the other hand it was only slightly windy today. Dazai clicked the safety to his pistol off, his eyes locked on the entrance to the bedroom.

The redhead took a breath of anxiety and shut out everything but the head of his target. He exhaled a breath of complete calm and pulled the trigger with no remorse.

The man collapsed on the sidewalk. Bystanders screamed and ran for cover.

Chuuya started disassembling the sniper rifle immediately. Dazai watched the door, his pistol was in his hand in case anyone walked in. The redhead carefully set the gun pieces in the bottom of his backpack.

They left the room and headed for the stairs. The duo quietly walked down, unhurried, as to not draw attention.

The first floor was made of oak. The wood planks creaked when one walked in the middle of the hall; And so they walked near the edges. Instead of going to the lobby, they turned left and headed towards the back. The back door to the hotel was unlocked from the inside. They left and no one remembered their faces.

XXX

Chuuya had the day off and should have still be bedridden due to the after effects of Corruption. But, Dazai had just gotten Chuuya a motorcycle to replace the one lost from rescuing the brunette. Of course, Dazai was only going to give it to Chuuya after a grueling clue hunt around Yokohama.

)))) : I got something for you

Slug: You're joking

)))) : Nope!

)))) : I left a clue in the kitchen

Slug: I'm supposed to be resting

)))) : When has that stopped you from working out before?

Slug: ...

Slug: Fine.

Slug: Whatever it is has better be good

Slug: Or I'm going to break your jaw when you get back from work

)))) : :D

)))) : Of course

Fifty minutes later, the brunette executive finished his paperwork for the day, he was bored now.

))) : Where are you?

Slug: I hate you so much right now

)))) : Ah, you're in the sewers

)))) : Having fun?

Slug sent a picture

In dim lighting, a grime covered Chuuya had flipped the bird. A deep frown on his face.

Dazai smirked.

)))) : Come on

)))) : Is it really that bad?

Slug: Yes.

Dazai smiled and pulled out a book to pass the time.

Two hours later, Chuuya walked into their apartment with soggy clothes and smelling like mud. The redhead had apparently changed after running through the sewer system, but not after the lake he had to search to find a chest with a combination code.

"Is there something else I have to do, you b*d? You've had me running around the city for three hours," Chuuya ranted.

Dazai closed his book with his thumb between the pages to keep his place and tossed his partner a set of keys. "It's in the back."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow and caught the keys. He gave a mocking bow, "why thank you."

Slug: You bought me a motorcycle?

)))) : You lost yours

The 'because of me' went unsaid.

)))) : I decided to save you time.

)))) : Besides, it's not much considering our salaries.

Slug: ...

It was awkward but Chuuya had to say it.

Slug: Thank you

Dazai blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

)))) : You're welcome

XXX

Age 17

It was a cold day in Yokohama as it was late fall. The water froze over at night and melted in the harsh warmth of the noon heat. Chilly breezes made people bundle up in jackets.

This morning, Chuuya had spotted a puddle of water from last night's rain and sleet. Now, it was evening, Chuuya and Dazai were walking to their apartment. The redhead multi-tasked, arguing with his partner while using For the tainted sorrow.

Dazai gasped as a ball of icy water hit his neck. It burst on skin contact and dripped down his back. "Chuuya," the brunette complained with a disgruntled look.

The redhead laughed. "Turnabout is fair play!"

XXX

Dazai and Chuuya had made a bet; That was not what was unusual, it was rather common. But somehow, by some miracle or curse, they had both lost. The price was 'no alcohol for a week', which they now had to follow through with.

To keep each other accountable, they stayed at their apartment after work.

Dazai had gotten his hands on a few western board games over the years and pulled them out with a grin. The brunette destroyed his partner at Guess Who, 7-0, and Clue, 4-0. However, he lost horribly at Monopoly, 0-2, and at Battleship, 0-9.

Chuuya had gotten the urge to burn the Clue board and gotten close to doing it when Dazai correctly guessed the murderer, room, and weapon on his third turn.

Monopoly was frustrating for both teenagers. But unlike Dazai, Chuuya bought everything he landed on, upscaled the right properties, and kept an eye on his finances.

In Battleship, Dazai kept guessing off of where Chuuya looked. After a minute, this habit was noticed and exploited. The redhead purposely looked at different places on his board randomly to throw his partner off, with large success.

The exception to these mandatory hang out nights was that Chuuya led two night missions on the second and third days.

On those nights, Chuuya recruited Ango and Odasaku to keep an eye on the sly brunette.

The trends of winning from the first day continued mostly unchanged. By the seventh night: Guess Who (Dazai 44-2 Chuuya), Clue (11-0), Monopoly (1-15), and Battleship (3-32).

At the end of the week, Chuuya threw away Clue.

XXX

The angle was somewhat harsh, as the target was getting in his white car three stories below. Chuuya swore as his bullet missed and the sound cracked through the street. The breeze was rather harsh today and made his bullet stray further than he thought it would. The redhead dropped his knife down to his partner and lined up the shot again.

Below the redhead, Dazai stuck his hand out over the railing and grabbed the combat knife with experienced ease. "There's no one yet, relax," he chided, as if his worried partner was right in front of him.

Chuuya grumbled a response but complied, lowering his shoulders and sinking back into his comfortable previous position.

Mr. Fai was using his Cadillac as cover. However, the middle aged man was likely thinking the sniper was gone after the failure. Chuuya waited for the greying hair to show up and aimed with care.

The mafioso cursed. He had missed twice now! Was he off his game this morning? Did Mr. Fai have a sixth sense when it came to bullets? Or was it just the wind screwing him over?

On the first balcony, two floors below his partner, Dazai could see their target and barely managed to pick out the edge of a black phone from the dark asphalt. It seemed Mr. Fai was texting, likely with his bodyguards that should be up in two minutes.

"Relax, Slug. I know you're slow. Don't worry," Dazai jokingly reassured. A dark smirk formed on his lips as he whispered up, "I'm going to go take care of your visitors. Happy hunting, Chibi."

The brunette strolled outside his hotel room and took the elevator to the third floor. He placed a hand in his pocket, took out his phone, and leaned against the wall a few feet from the entrance to the East wing.

A rough triangle of men soon strolled out of the elevator and towards the hall. One man was bald, apparently by choice since he had no large wrinkles from old age. One had a small, gold earring and red tie. The last had a buzz cut and sour scowl.

"Sis, hurry up! We're going to be late! Plus, I think I heard a gunshot a bit ago! We need to go!" Dazai yelled with faked annoyance. He knocked on the door and looked at his phone where 10:13 was clearly displayed.

Down the hall, Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I would if I could, waste of bandages," he muttered in reply.

Buzz cut snorted at Dazai's act, amused, and Dazai moved.

Chuuya's knife cleanly slashed through the front of Piercing's throat. A blood sprayed out and splattered on the brown carpet.

Buzz cut tried to pull out his gun out his jacket. Dazai slashed the man's carotid artery with a swing of his arm and a twist of his wrist. Several inches of the silver metal tip had a muddy red tinge. *

The two men in tuxedos were on the floor, screaming in red hot pain and bleeding out on the brown carpet.

Baldie turned around, eyes wide, his gun halfway out and aimed at the floor. Dazai smirked and flicked the combat knife at the man's neck.

Chuuya had the knife specially made in order to do a multi-purpose weapon. It was kept incredibly sharp for slashing through muscle, strong enough to be used under high gravity without bending, and...was perfectly balanced for throwing.

Dazai dragged the bodies to the storage closet at the very beginning of the East wing.

Mr. Fai thought his men succeeded. He grinned in relief at the screams, happy to be safe.

After thirty seconds, the man opened his car door and stepped in. He pulled out from his parking spot, ready to leave and put yet another assassination attempt behind him.

But a swift bullet from a frustrated sniper intervened and buried itself into Mr. Fai's brain.

"Third time's a charm," Chuuya muttered and started packing up.

Someone opened the door. The redhead had a pistol aimed at the intruder in a split second.

"Don't get trigger happy at me unless you want me to accomplish my dream Chuuya," Dazai teased.

"Knock first or say you're coming in, a*hole. You almost got yourself killed," the redhead snarled and pulled his backpack on. He brushed past his partner and went into the hall. Chuuya pulled a forged keycard out of his vest pocket and opened the door across the hall.

"Really? I should definitely just walk in on you whenever you're jumpy then," Dazai cheerfully replied with starry eyes, as he followed his partner into the room.

"Yeah, do that and I'll shoot you in the stomach," Chuuya threatened and opened a window. Dazai pouted. *

It was a drop of about thirty feet to the ground. Chuuya jumped and floated down. The red glow from his ability surrounded him and provided a small source of light in the dim area.

Dazai carefully shimmied down along the side of the building, using small crevices and window sills as handholds and footholds. His lanky limbs came in handy when climbing. He dropped to the ground. Small puddles of muddy water were littered along the alley.

"You wouldn't really do that, right?" Dazai said, still pouting.

"Believe me; I would."

XXX

Age 18

Chuuya powered through another diamond push up. He wasn't allowed to use his ability for the second half of his workout regimen and wouldn't as it was a bad idea right now. His arms and legs were tired from the exercise and extra weight.

"So, why are you here, bothering me?" The redhead asked his deadweight with great annoyance.

On Chuuya's back, a certain brunette cheerfully sat with his legs crossed. "I'm helping you work out," Dazai chirped.

"Yeah, right," the redhead replied sarcastically. Chuuya went to one armed push ups and used his free hand to make a rude gesture towards his unwelcome passenger.

Dazai laughed. "Come on, think of it. This way you can get used to carrying the weight of another person," he coaxed and carefully balanced as his partner went towards the floor.

"Another person? Are you joking? You're practically a stick that weighs five pounds," Chuuya scoffed.

"Then you shouldn't complain since it isn't hard," Dazai mischievously pointed out.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

XXX

Chuuya stomped into Lupin. Whip cream was generously spread over his face, hair, and shirt. "I'm going to kill you," he threatened with clenched fists and a scowl.

Dazai cackled madly at the sight. While Dazai was distracted, Ango passed something to Oda.

"I plan on committing suicide with a beautiful woman, you're neither beautiful nor-" Dazai's reply was interrupted by Oda slamming a plate full of whip cream onto Dazai's face.

Dazai wiped a bit of cream off his face with his sleeve. He narrowed his eyes and stuck his lip up, pouting. "Traitors," he accused.

The other three men laughed.

XXX

A gloved hand lazily gripped the top right of the leather wheel. Chuuya scowled, his grip tightened for a second, and he honked the horn.

The driver of the blue car in front looked up from her phone and pressed the gas pedal. Chuuya shook his head and ran a hand through his bangs.

In the passenger seat, Dazai grinned at his Nintendo. "Yes!" Dazai crowed and fist pumped.

Chuuya sighed. He wondered, how long it would take his partner to get bored?

A loud whoop and short sound effect announced the death of a boss. Dazai pressed a button to start the next level.

Unfortunately for both partners, the beginning of the next level was grinding. Dazai frowned at the screen, he was bored but it was necessary to grind to get to the rest of it.

Amongst occasional button pressing, Dazai started poking his partner in the ribs. Of course, Dazai timed his jabs in order to minimize Chuuya's possible reaction time. However, he had underestimated Chuuya's ability to drive with one hand and multi-task. Dazai's hand was harshly swatted away several times.

After three minutes of being bothered, Chuuya narrowed his eyes, put both hands on the steering wheel, and made a sharp turn.

Dazai's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He grabbed onto his arm rest as the car's momentum threw him to the left. The Nintendo was sent flying out of his right hand.

"Chuuya," Dazai complained with a whine in his voice.

"Stop bothering me," Chuuya hissed, his hands tapped a steady rhythm on the wheel.

The lack of provocation would last only as long as Dazai's search for his lost Nintendo. Chuuya knew this and acted when he saw Dazai's grin and him holding something up in triumphant.

Chuuya turned the wheel sharply once more and caught the black Nintendo. He smirked at his partner's squawk. "You'll get this back tomorrow if you don't bother me today."

Dazai pouted.

XXX

Age 22

Chuuya went to his wine cabinet for a drink. He was greeted with the sight that was completely empty of glass bottles and boxes. The only thing left was an old corkscrew.

"He's gone too far. This m*r, is dead," Chuuya snarled.

He headed out his front door to give his former partner a punch, planning revenge pranks along the way.

XXX

The members of the armed detective agency all briefly stared at the wrapping covering the desks and chairs before shrugging and continuing on with their day.

Dazai tilted his head and shrugged. Because after all, how could Chuuya know which desk is his?

The brunette plopped down in his chair. Beneath him, the chair crumpled and he fell to the floor.

"D*t, I saw it coming but I still fell for it."

XXX

Age 23

Dazai stealing Chuuya's hat was practically a running gag in the Port Mafia. However, the Armed Detective Agency knew nothing about Chuuya's and Dazai's prank war aside from that one wrapping incident.

Dazai strolled in with a hat perched on his head, one that was a bit too small. He greeted Atsushi and Kunikida with a grin, then sat in his chair and put the hat in his bottom left desk drawer.

After thirty minutes, Dazai had gotten tired of paperwork and migrated to the couch for a nap. However, his rest was interrupted.

The thud of footsteps were heard from the stairs and then outside the ADA office. Chuuya slammed the office door open. Irritation was clearly stamped on his face, his brows were furrowed and his lips were a thin line.

Dazai leapt up from the couch, ran over to his former partner, and performed what could only be described as a 'jump hug' (or glomp).

"Everyone, this is my best friend, Chuuya!" The brunette detective declared to his stunned coworkers.

"We're not best friends," the redhead growled as he ducked out from under Dazai's strangle hold AKA a bone crushing hug.

The detective mockingly gasped in horror, "Are you telling me we're not best friends anymore?"

"We've never been best friends," Chuuya dryly replied with a scowl.

"But we've known each other for years!"

"We've hated each other for years!"

Dazai tucked his thumb under his chin in thought and teasingly replied, "I prefer to think of our best friendship as a love-hate relationship."

"Give me back my hat," the Port Mafia Executive demanded.

"Only after you say we're best friends."

"Dazai, the one thing you want in life is a painless suicide. If you do not give me my hat, you will have an agonizing homicide."

"You would chose your hat over your best friend," Dazai said in mock disbelief.

"Yes!" Chuuya swiftly yelled. Dazai immediately grinned and laughed.

"Wait, no, d*n it, you're not my best friend!" The ginger protested.

At this point, Dazai had fallen to the floor, shaking with laughter.

"I hate you so much right now," Chuuya flatly stated.

"I can't believe you fell for that," the brunette detective wheezed.

Kunikida gave a polite cough, "Dazai, what is going on?" The man in question, still on the floor, only smirked in reply and continued chuckling.

"Mackerel, where is my hat?" Chuuya demanded, lightly kicking his ex-partner in the side.

"Ow, okay, fine, it's in my desk," the brunette detective said. He sprang upright and went to his desk, his ex-partner followed close behind. Dazai opened his right desk drawer and pulled out the black fedora. Chuuya snatched the hat out of his ex-partner's hands and placed it on his head.

Dazai pulled out his phone when a notification loudly chimed. "And my lunch break just started, want to go somewhere?"

Chuuya sighed. "S*w it, sure, I don't have anything else to do."

The two ex-partners strolled out of the room as they traded insults.

Ranpo shrugged and went back to eating chips, he had deduced that Dazai and Mr. Fancy Hat had some type of odd friendship relationship months ago.

"Does anyone know what just happened?" Tanizaki asked. Everyone else in the office shook their heads.

XXX

)))) : I need a ride

)))) : *puppy dog eyes*

Slug: Rly?

Slug: "*puppy dog eyes*"?

)))) : Can I get a ride?

)))) : Please~?

Slug: You're literally begging at this point

Slug: What did you do?

)))) : Annoyed Kunikida to the point he refused to give me a ride

Slug: You deserve this

)))) : TT

)))) : Plz?

)))) : I'll pay you back for the gas

Slug: Fine.

)))) shared their location

A few minutes later, Chuuya pulled up next to Dazai in a black Nissan.

"Huh, you got a new car," Dazai commented to himself. He opened the passenger door with a click and slid into the seat. Inwardly, he admired the seats, dashboard, and nice look of the car.

"Hey Chibi," Dazai greeted with a smirk.

"If you want I can drop you off right now," Chuuya threatened in reply.

Dazai held his palms up, "alright, alright. No need to be so..short tempered."

"Dazai, if you don't stop annoying me, I swear," Chuuya hissed and glared at his ex-partner. Dazai grinned but obliged, sensing that Chuuya's patience was wearing rather thin.

However, five minutes later, Dazai threw caution to the wind. "You really shouldn't have gotten that mad, it was just a small jest."

Chuuya hit the break harshly.

Dazai was thrown forward by the momentum and he grimaced. "I forgot you did stuff like that."

XXX

Slug: Oi Mackerel

)))) : What?

Slug: YOU LOST

In the office of the ADA, Dazai made a sound similar to an indignant squawk. Kunikida and Atsushi glanced over at their eccentric colleague.

)))) : What?

Slug: I grew out my hair for six years.

Slug: Remember?

Slug: You lost.

Dazai stuck his tongue out at his screen.

XXX

The next day, Dazai arrived late to work as usual. He walked in and flopped on the couch, hands lazily in his pockets. Kunikida and Atsushi sat on the other couch, working on the trio's most recent case. Dazai closed his eyes and refused to do any research, even though Kunikida attempted badger him into doing some.

Ranpo knew something was up, something that had to do with Dazai keeping his hands concealed. The master detective moved to where he could see Dazai no mused about the mystery, attempting to guess what the former Mafioso was hiding. However, there was only way to find out: trick Dazai into revealing his hands. Without warning, Ranpo lobbed a piece of colorful candy towards the Dazai occupied couch.

Dazai instinctively caught it and his eyebrows immediately furrowed. By catching it, he had exposed one of his hands. Surprisingly, his nails were covered in various colors of glitter. He seemed to have at least one shade of every color somewhere: red, pink, orange, blue, yellow, green, black, white, purple...

Usually Dazai's eyes were the dark brown of recently tilled earth with golden flecks akin to seeds. But in man's brief glare, Ranpo saw that a sudden frost had come and a sheet of ice lay over the ground.

"Dazai-san, your nails are painted," Atsushi pointed out with disbelief.

The brunette detective stuck his bottom lip out in a sulking manner. "I lost a bet."

"What? How could you lose a bet?" Atsushi asked, eyebrows raised and eyes opened wide.

Dazai sunk further into the couch and mumbled, "I forgot."

"Huh? What'd you say? I couldn't understand you," Atsushi said in confusion.

"I lost a bet, because I forgot about it," Dazai repeated with a frown.

"Someone remembered and you didn't? That's rather surprising," Kunikida commented as he looked up from a file.

"Thanks for rubbing it in, Kunikida," Dazai sullenly replied.

A/N

Friendly PSA: please drive safely. Don't replicate Chuuya's bad driving decisions or Dazai's horrible choice to annoy the driver.

There are two carotid arteries (translation: two super important carriers of blood) in the neck. Dazai cut the carotid sinus, where from my research the internal one veers off. If a carotid is severed, death can occur in under a minute (translation: carotid cut = death in a few seconds.).

Being shot in the stomach is painful but can be survived. However, that depends on the blood vessels and organs hit by the bullet. One can die quickly or over a long period of time.

As for the people who are like, 'whip cream? They are not that silly.' Yes, they are. In canon, Odasaku and Dazai TICKLED Ango who they just met. So don't try to tell me these guys wouldn't get up to ridiculous shenanigans.

-Silver


	10. Monster

"What a chimera then is man...What a monster, what a chaos, what a contradiction, what a prodigy! Judge of all things, depository of truth, a sink of uncertainty and error, the glory and shame of the universe."

-Blaise Pascal

"Is it better to out monster the monster or be quietly devoured?"

-Nietzsche

Warning: This chapter gets dark and is rated T due to the psychotic kid Q and torture.

Age 13

"Monster!" Came the cry of a wounded man. His face was strewn with terror and his heart beat wildly in his chest. His whole body shivered in equal amounts of rage and fear. His friends had been killed by that monster in the form of a child.

Dazai sighed, apparently the man hadn't been wounded enough. He pulled the trigger of his pistol to remedy the situation.

XXX

Mori walked in the house with a small child at his heels. Dazai looked up from his book for a few moments, long enough that his mentor wouldn't take offense at being ignored.

"Dazai, this is Yumeno, his nickname is Q. He's going to be staying with us."

Q had an odd smile on his face. Not that was the oddest thing about the kid. His hair was evenly split between black and white, one eye was star shaped, and there was creepy doll in his arms.

Mori led Q upstairs. Dazai returned to his book, guesses and theories swirled in his head about the new arrival.

XXX

Dazai was right in the middle of fighting scene when he saw a flicker of black in the corner of his eye. He kept his eyes fixed on his book and turned a page as the small figure came closer.

"Hello," Dazai greeted with a smile when the kid was a yard from him.

Q giggled. The expression on his face was a foolish attempt at looking innocent and harmless. He had his stuffed nightmare-fuel doll in his arms. "Do you want to play?"

Dazai kept the dark knowing glint out of his eyes and his plastic smile on. "Oh, what game?"

"It's a really fun one," Q assured and hugged Dazai's leg.

For a brief moment, Dazai's eyes narrowed at the sight of barbed wire hidden under a black sleeve. Q quickly stepped back, ripped his doll's head off, and gave an excited look. The child waited and then blinked in confusion.

"Are you using your ability?" Dazai innocently questioned.

Q's lips pursed, his smile turned to a dark frown. "What did you do?"

"Aww, you're so cute," Dazai mockingly commented. His smile turned into a smirk. "You know, I'm going to have to mention this to Mori later. Can't have you going around, trying to curse people for fun." Dazai lightly flicked Q's nose. "Now, go play somewhere else and don't curse anyone. I want to finish my book."

Q scowled.

XXX

Age 16

Q wandered through the alleyways of Yokohama. It was the first time he had managed to make it past the docks. Dazai or Mori had always noticed and would drag him back. But not this time. There was a small war going on, and as Executives, both were busy.

He eventually stumbled onto a small park that was somewhat crowded. There were many families here, many parents who took their children out for some fun after lunch. Q knew his parents would never have done the same, because he was a monster, a demon. That's what they said as they drove nails and knives through his skin.

He smiled as he approached a family. With fake tears in his eyes, he asked them to help him find his 'mommy'. The mother tried to soothe him and hugged him. The three children around six to nine years old boys gave him hugs as well, although one whispered "he looks weird". The dad held Q's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

A few other people passed by, hugged Q, and went on their way promising to keep an eye out for a mother wearing a dark green dress looking for her son.

About thirty minutes after he started this farce, he pulled his doll apart. He smiled and giggled as he watched the massacre begin. Q stood on top of a bench, on tip-toe, straining his neck in order to get a full view of the grand event.

Families beat each other and other families. Parents choked their children and children struggled helplessly to escape. Claw marks and bruises formed all over in the fights amongst the children. One kid grabbed a rock and started bashing it against his brother's head.

A hand tightened around the back of Q's neck and he squirmed. He desperately jerked his body around as another hand ripped the two parts of his doll from him.

The people stopped fighting. They collapsed to the ground. They stared at the carnage around them. Some screamed.

Q grimaced at the hollow ache where his ability had been thrumming.

"Sit," Dazai ordered, his voice blank. His expression was just as empty as his voice. He looked like a small Grim Reaper, dressed entirely in black and already looking lifeless. He draped his black coat over the shoulders of the small child.

Q sat with a fierce pout and pulled the coat around him as a chilly spring breeze blew past. Dazai had ruined his fun. But then Dazai snapped his fingers and Q joyfully watched with his eyes wide and a big smile. The previously brainwashed fighters were gunned down by Port Mafia suits.

XXX

Dazai and Q met Mori at a Port Mafia owned restaurant. Dazai kept a light grip on Q's hand as they passed by the restaurant entrance. If one were to change Dazai's clothes from a black suit to something more brightly colored, they would look like big brother taking his little brother out on walk.

The meeting room had two red lamps and a large half-square couch. On it, Mori languidly sipped a glass of some alcoholic beverage and watched Q twitch and fidget. Elise was drawing a picture of a star with a long crack in the middle. Dazai stood by the door, a silent watcher ready to step in if Q tried to use his ability on Mori, however unlikely the possibility.

"Yumeno, you disobeyed me," Mori stated. His usual plastic smile was gone. The dismal lighting made his eyes turn blood red.

The child swallowed nervously.

"Do not overestimate your worth. There are many other assets the Port Mafia could put its money towards," Mori reminded. He gave a small fake smile, an empty one that showed just how he had come to be close to cutting his losses. How close Q had been to certain dead, or a life less than life, as a new lab rat for the government.

Q glared at Mori.

Mori simply stared back, unamused. The frigid air about him was deadly serious, a cold chill that seemed to seep into ones bones. "You will not go anywhere outside of the house for a month. You are dismissed," he ordered.

Q clenched his fists but bowed. He left, trembling with anger and fear and a sour taste in his mouth. Dazai followed, after a quick shared glance with his mentor.

XXX

Mori's office was dim, as he liked it. A lamp on his desk and one beside the couch were the only light sources. Mori scribbled away at his desk. Elise drew on the floor nearby. Dazai was on his back on the couch, holding a book up to the light.

After Mori finished blacking out another report, he asked a question. It was an obvious one, but refreshing one's memory was necessary.

"Dazai, do you understand how we are covering it up?"

"We are taking advantage of the chaos?" Dazai nonchalantly suggested as he turned a page.

"Correct. We frame another group and Yokohama is in the midst of a war, which means that odd incidents aren't paid much attention. So what if forty odd people died? The underworld won't notice and the police can be bribed to look away. If any nosy journalists happen to hear something, they can be blackmailed into silence."

XXX

Age 17

To Dazai, Chuuya was not the same as Akutagawa, Q knew that. Q also knew that Chuuya's ability was rather destructive. Apparently this knowledge culminated in an extremely stupid action.

Mori and Chuuya were discussing something at a warehouse about a minutes drive away from Port Mafia HQ. Mori looked away for an moment and in that time, Q hugged Chuuya. The redhead had looked down in confusion at the child. Q merely let go, smiled up at Chuuya, and ripped his doll open.

And now, three minutes later, Dazai's vest was covered with blood, sweat, and the tears of his partner. A second later, Kouyou showed up, a whirl of pink, red, and white as she whisked Chuuya away to the infirmary.

Q cried out as Dazai grabbed his wrist. Dazai's face was blank, only his breathing showed him to be alive and not a mannequin. The Executive's grip was harsh and unrelenting as he dragged the child to where Mori stood.

Mori's face was slightly amused and slightly exasperated. "Ninety two of our own dead, many more and an executive severely injured," he announced in a mockingly cheery voice. His expression hardened into a cold clinical look. "No more chances. You will have to be contained."

Q's eyes widened at the words. "No! No! No! I'll be good I promise," he begged, even while knowing it was futile. At Mori's unchanging expression, Q screamed and thrashed. Dazai's hand tightened on the child's wrist. Agitated and desperate, Q swung a fist at Dazai.

Dazai let go of the child's wrist and executed a graceful turn. He grabbed Q's arm and twisted it behind the child's back. The strain caused Q to let out a whimper, he had grown unused to pain he hadn't willingly inflicted on himself. Dazai smiled slightly, feeling a bit sadistic.

Mori simply sighed at the scene. He was having a bad day. Elise had disappeared again, off on another brief adventure without him.

Q pulled his free arm forward and attempted to hit Dazai in the crotch with his elbow. Instead, he was forced to the ground. He felt a sharp tug on his left shoulder, then terrible pain. His shoulder felt as if someone had shattered it with a hammer. Q screamed, a loud high pitched shriek that caused Dazai to flinch from his proximity. It was too bad for the kid that the room was soundproofed. But admittedly, it wasn't like anyone would actually care to help him.

Dazai's smile curled into a smirk.

"That's enough, Dazai," Mori cooly ordered.

Dazai stood up and shrugged, seemingly indifferent. But his eyes were fixed on the small quivering figure at his feet.

XXX

Age 18

The subordinates suits under Chuuya or Dazai nervously watched the two argue. The duo was going at it in a loud spectacular fashion. They were yelling, snarking, and stabbing each other's chest with their index fingers.

The object they were arguing about lay on the ground about two yards away. Seven colored wires were exposed from a square hole. A small digital timer was counting down, due to the fact that this object was a large complex bomb.

Dazai got exasperated before Chuuya. "You know what, go ahead," he said, as he held his palms up and stepped away.

"Alright," Chuuya said with a small smirk and cut the yellow wire.

Everyone in the vicinity counted to thirty seconds. There was no explosion. Nothing happened. The subordinates sighed in relief.

Dazai pouted. "I hate when you're right."

XXX

Age 21

"A weapons dealer was killed, oh what a tragedy," Dazai remarked, sardonically .

Kunikida shot his partner a look of disapproval.

"What?" Dazai innocently replied.

XXX

Dazai was a monster, the whole Japanese underworld knew that. He reveled in being called that by horrified people. He absorbed the word as part of his image and life.

Chuuya used to hate being called a monster. It reminded him of his past, his life before the Port Mafia. He'd gotten farther then he ever thought he would, but the way he did so cost him something.

Dazai's brilliant mind shone as a warning light to the Port Mafia's enemies. Chuuya was the unaccounted for darkness, a shadow that stretched as far as the mastermind's brilliance but in the opposite direction.

They were two sides of the same coin. They balanced each other out. Chuuya cared too much about a few people, Dazai cared little about anyone. One smiled lively, the other smiled with fake cheer. Both could lie convincingly, but only one lied constantly. But, that did not mean Chuuya was not a monster. If anything, the worst monsters are those who care too much.

XXX

Age 15

"I need to punch something," Chuuya seethed. His eyes were an ocean rapidly thrashing and dragging boats down into inky black depths and onto sand that the sun has never touched. Chuuya quickly turned and pounded his fist against a nearby brick wall. He hissed as he pulled his hand back. There was irritated red skin, an already forming bruise, and small scratches around his knuckles. He probably should have worn his gloves today. It was easier to buy a new pair of gloves then wait for his hand to heal.

A detached Dazai observed, "You have anger management issues; you should work on that."

"And you should figure out how not to be suicidal and chronically depressed. I guess both of us have some things to work on," Chuuya harshly shot back.

Dazai smirked and held his palms up. "Point made."

XXX

Age 16

The Port Mafia owned scrap yard Chuuya sometimes trained in would be a thing of wonder to the eye of a child. Cars floating in the air and odd bits and bobs, participating in a sort of dance. Metal pipes groaned and screeched as they were forced into different shapes. All of the flying objects covered in a red tint and the small ones moving around in intricate ways. Unfortunately or fortunately, there was no child there to see the sight.

On one foggy morning, Dazai had to get Chuuya for a mission. But the latter was training in the scrap yard and had turned his phone off.

To a child the idea of a floating car or dishwasher sounds delightful and whimsical. However, to Dazai it was a dangerous minefield. Anything he touches will stop being affected by Chuuya's ability. Which meant that he could be crushed under whatever object, even it was building, if his skin brushes against it.

And being crushed was rumored to be a very painful way to go. As you would be literally squished under an object. And with a car, who knows if he would die for sure, perhaps he would just be in pain or even paralyzed. Better not to take the risk, Dazai assured himself, as there were far better ways to off himself.

Chuuya was laying on his back, floating four feet above the sand. A plethora of objects were suspended on thin air above him. There was a coil of some metal wire, a metal pipe, and a car door, to name a few. They circled around and traded partners in a strange dance.

"What do you want?" Chuuya asked, still focused on his ability.

Dazai poked Chuuya in the shoulder. "We have a job," he informed.

The objects were lowered to the ground with the ease of an introvert getting into bed after dealing with people all day. Smaller objects settled snugly into the ground while cars were carefully placed amongst piles of miscellaneous items.

The danger of injury now gone, Dazai poked Chuuya's cheek. The redhead fell to the ground. It spoke to his quick reaction time that he managed to land in a crouch and not on his back.

"Dazai," Chuuya growled as he stood up.

"Yes?" Dazai innocently replied, his eyes wide with sincerity.

"If we didn't have a mission, I'd kill you."

XXX

Age 17

Dazai and Chuuya were in Chuuya's office. Chuuya was sitting in a black plush chair with metal studs, he was rapidly typing on a laptop that was precariously propped on his crossed legs. Dazai was sprawled out on Chuuya's couch. His eyes wandered around the room.

"Out of us, who do you think is more cruel?" Dazai asked. He rubbed an old, metal coin between his fingers.

"What?" Chuuya murmured, slightly annoyed. His mind was elsewhere, trying to type up a report about the latest mission to send to Mori.

"Hmm, maybe you're more cruel? Because your jobs calls for it. I break people for information. But you...you often execute people. And if they're of some importance, you torture them maybe get some info, and then execute them," Dazai mused. He tossed a coin from hand to hand as he talked.

"True, my job often requires it," Chuuya admitted and took his gaze off his laptop screen. "I'm cruel out of necessity. But you're unnecessarily cruel. When you hunt someone down, you make sure they know they're caught and can't escape. You get into their mind and break them. And you...you probably get a sense of accomplishment out of breaking them to the point that they can never pull their mess of a mind back together.

"Also, you go out of your way to terrify new recruits, your apprentice, and even our clients. It's like you keep trying to expand your 'people who are scared of me' list daily," Chuuya dryly pointed out.

Dazai smirked.

XXX

The night was cold and breezy. Clouds drizzled rain over Yokohama City. Chuuya had walked into a small pub. The place smelled of old wood and spicy curry.

The only other customer sat at the bar. "Hello, Chuuya," he greeted, turning around o look at the new arrival. His tan coat was lightly dusted with raindrops.

"Odasaku? What are you doing here?" Chuuya asked as he collapsed his umbrella. He took off his damp trench coat and draped it over his arm.

"This place makes good curry," Oda sincerely responded.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow and took a seat. "'Good curry'? It'd have feel like plasma on your tongue for you to like it.

"Hey, chef, I'll take a bowl of your mildest curry."

After Chuuya's food arrived, the chef went into the back and the two Port Mafia members started talking in low voices. Odasaku told short quirky stories about random happenings. Chuuya told long tales about Dazai being an a*****e and training idiotic recruits who didn't understand basic combat or etiquette.

After one of Chuuya's stories ended, Odasaku put his in one of his hands. He stared at Chuuya for a brief moment. "You're different then Dazai, you still care."

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. "About what?"

"About wrong and right," Oda plainly stated with a small shrug.

"I have the rusted remnant of a moral compass that I continue to disregard," Chuuya scoffed. His volume dropped as he continued, "I'm still a monster." His bright sapphire blue eyes had darkened to cobalt. There was a slight sour, but resigned look on his face.

Odasaku couldn't disagree. He couldn't force the 'no, you're not' out of his mouth. He had heard the rumors of Double Black's missions. The estimates of how much blood they spilled. Dazai's predictions of how best to mess with people. How much Dazai wanted to die, so much that the kid cheerfully mentioned it with star filled eyes.

Chuuya folded his gloved hands, and stared at them. "If anything, doesn't that make me more of a monster then Dazai? He's looking for the dredges of humanity, has a broken moral compass, and despairing of life. On the other hand, I..." he trailed off and looked at Odasaku.

Odasaku shook his head. "No, to me...That makes you more sympathetic, more human. There's a lot of people who do wrong things and know it's wrong. But, that means you're closer in some sense. You don't need to learn it again. You haven't lost which way is up and down. All you need to do is choose to go up."

Chuuya snorted. "And if that isn't the hardest thing to do," he drawled.

"It is. But...I think it's worth doing," Odasaku affirmed. Chuuya nodded, unfolded his hands, and started eating again. Silence crept over the room for a few minutes, interrupted briefly by the scratch of chopsticks and spoons.

Chuuya sighed, he turned his curious gaze to his right. "Well, since we already got personal. Why did you stop killing?"

"I...want to become a writer. One can't write about lives if one ends lives," Odasaku quietly explained.

Chuuya hummed. "That's...an interesting perspective."

XXX

Two people dressed in black stood in front of and behind him. He was captured, he had chosen the wrong alleyway to run into. "You're monsters," he hissed. The man didn't expect the dark chuckles of laughter. His jaw was broken on a curb. The boot still heavy against the back of his neck as he screamed. It moved to his side and flipped him over on his back. He caught a brief glimpse of two teenagers dressed in black before the three bullets hit his heart. He kept screaming, even as his throat became raw and felt like like sand paper. His world went dark, abruptly.

XXX

Dazai stared at the blood covering the alley floor, the ashy grey color of the ground had been coated a dark red.

"Guess we're both monsters," Chuuya joked without a trace of actual humor. He heard the rap tap of well weathered dress shoes. His partner could have chosen to hide his footsteps, instead he made them loud.

Dazai put an elbow on his partner's shoulder and gazed at the carnage. He coldly smirked. "Of course, but it's not like that's rare. Every human is a monster."

XXX

Age 20

Mr. Sato woke up as light hit his eyes. Pain flooded through his body as he came to. His suit was rumpled and he had small stinging cuts on his face, neck, and hands. The inside of his cheek was sore as he had bitten it in the last session to stop himself from screaming.

A torturer, seemingly his personal torturer, stood in front of Mr. Sato, he was a redhead dressed in a grey vest and black dress pants. A black fedora with a brown bow and silver chain was rakishly tilted on his head. Mr. Sato assumed that this man was some high ranking Port Mafia member, likely one used to torture and hunting down people of interest. Possibly, he might even be an executive.

"Ready to talk?" The torturer asked, his tone curious. His eyes were a hard sapphire and his mouth was a straight apathetic line. He was on the edge of the brightly lit circle from a hanging light.

Mr. Sato gathered the saliva in his mouth in his mouth and spat. The bloody glob landed on his torturer's cheek and slowly headed downwards.

The Port Mafia member wiped the spit away with the back of his gloved hand. "Get me two buckets of water," he ordered, icy eyes still fixed on Mr. Sato.

On the tile a few feet away in the darkness, a door creaked open and closed with a click. About two minutes, the door opened again. Light footsteps headed towards the patch of light.

"Put them down, here." The torturer gestured to a spot a yard from Mr. Sato's feet.

Two buckets were set on the ground. The man coughed into his hand after he did so. He wore a ragged black coat and his hair was black except for white tips. He scowled at Mr. Sato and then quietly walked out of the bright circle. *

"Still not willing to say anything?" The torturer politely asked. Mr. Sato shook his head.

The water was tinted red as it streamed out of a bucket. The liquid flowed against gravity and towards Mr. Sato's face. He panicked as the liquid entered his mouth and yanked against the handcuffs around his wrists. He choked and coughed as the water forcefully made its way down his throat.

XXX

Age 21

Chuuya was in a dark green pine forest at night. He walked through the woods, ears perked for the slightest sound and eyes straining for a glimpse of movement. Pine needles pricked and shifted under his bare feet.

He breathed through his nose, inhaling the sharp scent of pine accompanied by a soft hint of moss and mud. The smell of mud and moss grew stronger as he emerged out of the dark shadowed trees into a dim clearing. He smiled as he walked towards the large pond.

Chuuya placed a toe in the dark water, testing the temperature. It was slightly cold. He waded in, careless about the pair of black pants he was getting wet.

The pool was changing color, turning brighter. Curious, Chuuya placed a hand in the water and pulled it back out. His fingers and palm were coated in a thick dark red. Suddenly, a pair of hands were around his throat, forcing him down into the red water.

He choked and gasped at the taste. It wasn't water, it was salty and metallic. He was being drowned in blood.

Chuuya tore at the hands around his neck. He gave up on getting the person to release him and pushed himself above the water with his hands and knees. He sputtered and greedily sucked in air.

Now that his head was above water he could hear the maniac's laughter. It mocked and grated on his ears. It was also terribly familiar. In Chuuya's chest, a stone sank to the bottom. He had a terrible horrible frightening suspicion that made goosebumps raise on his arms.

He glanced down, at the hands around his throat. It was a familiar set of small black gloved hands. The hands gave a forceful push and thrust his face into the water again.

XXX

Age 22

The room was dim and covered in dirt. Vines choked a large amount of space, tendrils wrapped around the figure of a small boy.

"Kill him," Chuuya suggested with a shrug. Dazai cut the vines with a few practiced swings.

Chuuya clicked his tongue. "You've gone soft."

Dazai's gaze as he handed over Q was rather smug. 'I don't kill when it doesn't give me an advantage, remember?'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever excuse you want to give,' Chuuya responded with a roll of his eyes he pulled Q onto his back.

A/N

* The method used is water cure torture. You force someone to drink lots of water until they die or force them to throw it up and start all over again.

I'd like to give a big thank you to the stories: Break them by Misila ) and the gaps in between by Ascend (Ao3). Both tales helped a lot with inspiration for the Q centric scenes.

-Silver


	11. Training

"There is no winning or losing in training. There is only learning." -Tucker Max

Age 10

Training was serious business for young Port Mafia Gifteds. Unfortunately for Dazai, he was being pitted against a Gifted who was also a noted close combat specialist: Chuuya Nakahara, Kouyou's apprentice.

"Begin!"

"Hello," Dazai cheerfully greeted. He barely dodged the kick aimed at his knee cap.

"Good target choice. If you can hit a knee cap it can seriously incapacitate your opponent," Dazai chattered as he dodged a kick to his stomach.

"And if you had landed that one, a kick to my stomach, it would have severely winded me. You're actually pretty good," Dazai complimented.

"Stop talking," Chuuya growled. His bangs whipped around as he went for Dazai's knee cap once again.

"Of course, of course. I'm distracting you? Is that it? I'm so sorry," Dazai evenly said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Chuuya's eyes narrowed. "Yes, quite," he replied in a clipped voice.

"Well then, I guess I'll just shut up then? But, it's such a nice day and there's so much to talk about," Dazai mockingly commented as he skipped away from a kick once again. "Yes, there is so much to talk about. Like how you keep missing me."

"Oh really?" Chuuya asked, a glint in his eyes as he glared at Dazai. He sent another kick towards his opponent's knee cap. Dazai side-stepped. Chuuya pivoted and drove a fist into Dazai's diaphragm. Dazai gasped and choked, clutching his chest.

"Well, there may have been a lot to talk about. But you may find yourself out of breath," Chuuya sardonically stated.

XXX

Mori inspected the cup in his hand. It was a piece of expensive, fine china. A bouquet of multiple types of flowers had been carefully painted on it.

"Why did you want our protégés together?" Kouyou asked. In her right hand was a china cup painted with another bouquet of flowers.

Mori hummed. The cups were part of a set, but there was likely more then two. "Dazai is a prodigy; strategies and scenarios are constantly on his mind. His latest trap is responsible for six of the men. . . in your care."

Kouyou sipped her green tea before she replied, her eyes sharp and curious. "Dazai's abilities are commendable. However, that doesn't explain why you want them as partners."

"Chuuya is also a prodigy; his ability and various combat skills have grown greatly under your care. His martial arts mixed with his gift would have already made him an almost unstoppable force. But since young Chuuya was wonderfully talented in close combat from the beginning, you chose to train him in ranged attacks as well. As it turned out, he had a knack for sniping, which perfectly compensated for his weakness. Currently, Chuuya can kill any ungifted Port Mafia member," Mori complimented as he poured sugar and milk into his tea.

"Your point being, Mori-san?" Kouyou courteously questioned with a raised eyebrow. She was ever so slightly more tense after the praise.

Mori smiled. The expression was a blatantly crafty fake. "An expert tactician and a talented combatant. If they grow alongside each other, they have the potential to be the strongest duo in Yokohama."

XXX

Age 12

Dazai rushed through the halls of Port Mafia Headquarters, dodged around the other older members who walked at a more sedate pace. Chuuya followed, hands clenched into fists and a scowl on his face. Dazai ran into a small room off a hallway.

Chuuya walked into the room, looking around. Dazai had definitely come in here, the only question was where he was now.

"I must use my last resort!" A voice yelled. Dazai vaulted over the couch and tackled Chuuya to the floor. While his opponent was stunned, he stuck his fingers under Chuuya's armpits and started tickling him.

Chuuya laughed and tried to shake Dazai off. "Stop! Daaazaaaii! Stop tickling me!"

XXX

Age 14

The training room was empty except for a ticked off child and another smug child. Chuuya swung at Dazai.

Dazai smirked and nimbly skipped to the side. He has completely memorized Chuuya's patterns and can predict his peer's every move.

Chuuya scowled and decided to up his speed. He knew how much Dazai could take, but he also knew that Dazai calculated his moves and how he could easily predict and dodge.

The dance of punch, dodge, kick, dodge continued. Dazai winced as Chuuya's leg cleanly connected with his side and threw him to the floor. In the area of his chest, a snap was clearly heard by both. Dazai had underestimated Chuuya's recent growth spurt and hadn't noticed the increase in speed.

Dazai winced as he sat up. "I think you cracked one of my ribs."

"Oh, s*t, really?" Chuuya asked, not managing to completely hide his guilt and concern.

After that, Chuuya kept a careful handle on his anger when fighting Dazai. That's the only reason why he hasn't accidentally killed the idiot.

XXX

Age 15

The closet contained cleaning supplies and a mop and bucket. Chuuya held the door closed with his ability. Muttered threats and thuds came from the hallway outside.

"Ideas?" He asked.

Dazai cleared a space on the a shelf and sat. "Nope! I only planned so far as getting us out of the meeting room."

"Well, we can't easily take on three dozen people. So what are we going to do?"

Dazai raised his fingers to his chin in thought, a cheerful look on his face. "Hmm, I guess we should just give up and die then."

Chuuya smacked the back of Dazai's head. "Ow! Did you have to hit that hard?"

"When you're acting stupid, absolutely yes," Chuuya deadpanned. "Anyway, Dazai, give me your bullets."

Dazai raised an eyebrow and discharged the magazine from his pistol. He grinned. "Well, I'm guessing you got a plan?"

"Yeah. If I use my ability, who needs a gun to fire bullets? I sure don't."

After that mission, Dazai started to carry around a small box of bullets.

XXX

Age 16

Dazai silently watched as Chuuya tried to control three droplets of water. Skin contact was still necessary, and so the redhead's discarded gloves lay on his leg.

The brunette mulled over what Chuuya was and could be. The redhead's petite figure was deceptively strong, even without his ability, he could decimate enemy ranks. After the fine-tuning of For the Tainted Sorrow's effects on different substances, Chuuya would be able to use everything in his environment to his advantage. But Chuuya would likely develop a habit of holding back his power in battle due to his want of a 'fair fight' and adrenaline.

Dazai sighed. He smiled wryly as the drops splattered to the floor and Chuuya cursed. That would be later down the road. For now, he would just enjoy making weird faces and thwarting his partner's focus.

XXX

Chuuya had gotten to the point where he could control a good amount of water and move it around. The liquid floated around, changing shape and magnifying the view of the the opposite side.

The water turned into a small whip and then back into a ball. It flowed into a thin line again and snaked around Chuuya. Dazai poked the orb of water just as it got over Chuuya's face.

Dazai's ability nullified For the Tainted Sorrow and reasserted Earth's gravity. The ball fell down and splashed onto a beloved black fedora.

Dazai took one look at Chuuya's face and started running away with a grin.

"Dazai!" Came the furious yell from behind him.

XXX

A sound, a flash, and a piece of metal flew towards Chuuya. It lurched to a halt at the center of his palm. For the Tainted Sorrow's red tint made the grey look as if it had been dipped in blood.

Dazai stood several yards in front of Chuuya. He casually pointed his gun at his partner and chattered away. The dim moonlight from the windows obscured everything but his face and raised hand.

Chuuya's eyebrow twitched. "Can you stop talking?"

"What? Why would I do that? I'm helping you." Dazai gave an innocent smile.

"No, you're not."

"Oh? Do you expect your enemies will just quietly stand there and wait for you to do something?"

"No. But let me get the basics down first, you a," Chuuya growled. He sneezed in the thick dust.

"But you're so slow!" Dazai complained.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I can't instantly learn how to stop bullets. You want to trade places?" Chuuya frowned and sighed. "No, never mind, forget that. You're just going to say something about suicide." Chuuya hissed in pain as a bullet nicked the web between his index and thumb.

"Guilty as charged," Dazai joked. His brown eyes narrowed; they were two cold piles of mud. "And actually, you do have the basics down. You just need to do this enough that you can stop bullets without thinking about it."

Chuuya sighed. "Fine. But after I put a band-aid on. I'd prefer not to get an infection. Who the h*l knows how many germs are in this musty warehouse?"

XXX

Age 17

'Soukoku bets' were a label given to one of the particular brands of insanity the titular partnership was known for. A few others were the ongoing prank war, the rumored games of chance they played to choose a international criminal competitor to take out each month, and the sight of Port Mafia Executives arguing like five-year-olds.

Not for the first time, a Soukoku bet affected the training of a new batch of recruits. Dazai had once caused all of the recruits in a training session to faint from fear except for one. For a week afterwards, Chuuya was in a foul mood and didn't wear his trademark hat. *

Today, in a Port Mafia HQ training room, there was a gathering of new recruits ready for their next lesson. Clean-shaven men stood in rows, dressed in grays and blacks.

They were waiting for the executive Chuuya Nakahara. However, the executive Osamu Dazai showed up, yawning and leafing through a list of recruits. "All right, I'm training you for the next ten days. And for all those wondering," he frowned, "yes, I lost a bet."

The recruits already connected to Port Mafia's rumor mill shivered at the word 'bet'. Those who weren't were confused, but who were they to question an executive.

XXX

Chuuya swayed in his chair before steadying. The bottle of wine next to him was three fourths gone. His eyes were focused as he leaned an elbow against the bar countertop.

Tachihara sat on Chuuya's right. His face was flushed from drinking, but his eyes burned with excitement and determination. "1000 yen says I can beat you in arm wrestling. No abilities of course."

Chuuya smiled and downed the rest of his glass. He had a misstep but corrected his balance as he got out of his chair. "I'll take you up on that."

Dazai smirked and took a small sip of his glass of whiskey. This would be fun to watch. Port Mafia members often challenged Chuuya to arm wrestling competitions, but only while he's drunk.

The room dropped in volume as a table cleared for the competitors, and everyone crowded around. Dazai stood with his drink in hand by Chuuya's left shoulder. Gin sneakily weaved her way around people in order to see. Hirotsu was the referee and stood at the hallway point of the table.

Bets were exchanged and shook on. Most didn't bet on who would win, but how long it would take for Chuuya to get serious.

Chuuya took off his right glove, rolled up his sleeve, and set his elbow on the table. Tachihara grinned as he firmly gripped his opponent's palm.

"Ready, set, go," Hirotsu declared.

Tachihara twisted his wrist up and pushed with all his might. Chuuya's arm moved several inches to the left. Inside his mind, he cheered and continued his onslaught.

Ever since the Tachihara's challenge had been issued, the fog in Chuuya's mind started gradually clearing up. He clenched his fingers around Tachihara's hand and began pulling their hands upwards with all of his strength. With his eyes sharp and clear, he smacked Tachihara's fist down on the table. "Chuuya is the winner," Hirotsu calmly stated. The bar went wild.

Dazai cheerfully grinned as several bills were handed to him. "Why thank you," he sang.

"You won." Tachihara handed over the money to Chuuya, his eyes wide with surprise and newfound respect.

Chuuya accepted the money and then staggered over to the bar countertop. Dazai sighed. He didn't fancy lugging his drunk partner back to the apartment.

XXX

Age 18

In the driver's seat, Chuuya had tilted his chair back as far as it would go and had fallen asleep. His hat covered most of his face and he had crossed his arms.

Dazai was awake, but he was far too absorbed in his Nintendo to watch for the targets. The only reason he noticed someone sneaking out was a small flashlight that had briefly turned on. He tapped Chuuya's shoulder a few times. Chuuya shifted and mumbled something.

"Chuuya, wake up." Dazai lightly shook his partner's shoulder.

A gloved hand slapped Dazai's hand away. "What?" Chuuya grumbled. He rubbed his eyes.

"They're moving out. Have fun," Dazai absently commented. What he viewed as his job done, he immediately focused on his game again.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes and glared at his partner. "You're not even...I'm going to kill you when we get back," he threatened.

Dazai waved goodbye, eyes still glued to his screen.

XXX

Age 22

Chuuya grimaced as he lay flat on his stomach, buffeted by the winds as he periodically watched a party occurring in a nearby skyscraper. He was sleep-deprived and annoyed. Not a good combo for a sniping mission.

Chuuya was sleep-deprived because because he had spilled wine on several handwritten reports and then had to type up barely legible kanji the night before. He was annoyed because he was on top of a roof at 3 AM in the middle of freaking winter. The wind kept messing up his bangs, chilling him through his black trench coat and trying to blow his hat off. Plus, he was unable to find his boots and had to wear a pair of cheap black flats. Well, at least his hands were warm in a pair of fuzzy gloves he had left in his office last week.

Chuuya grabbed his binoculars and looked through them.

Mr. Wite was a corrupt politician who had been invited to the semi-annual gala hosted by the StarrI Company. Another corrupt politician was paying for the hit.

Cold air currents swept around the skyscrapers across from Chuuya, separated by glass from the crowd of well dressed sycophants. Most were peacocks, spreading vibrant feathers as wide as possible to boast and gather admirers. A few sharks and snakes swam and slithered among them, not noticed by the unobservant.

Men in black, white, and dark blue suits strutted and stalked around the room. Women wearing dark suits or vibrants dresses gathered in clumps. A necklace made of twenty diamonds, a large gastly ruby and gold ring, and a elegant pearl pin. It was times like these that Chuuya almost wished he was a thief.

It seemed that Mr. Wite was determined to be fashionably late. The party had started fifteen minutes ago, yet there was no sign of him.

Weight was suddenly placed on the bottom of Chuuya's feet. Chuuya dropped the binoculars, sat up on his knee caps, and pulled the person's legs forward. The person yelped as he fell on his back.

Chuuya stood up, twirled around, and sat on his attacker's chest. The edge of his knife pressed harshly against a pale, bandaged throat.

He stared in surprise and Dazai grinned. "What the h*l, Dazai," Chuuya growled, rolled over, and flopped on the ground beside his ex-partner. "You know you shouldn't interrupt me when I'm on a job, a*e."

"Hmm, same knee jerk reaction," Dazai commented out of the blue. He smirked, "I bet you're still ticklish."

"And I bet you're still an a*e. Oh wait, you already proved that," Chuuya snarked. "Anyways, go away. I'm trying to kill someone."

"Oh? If I was a normal person, wouldn't that be exactly why I was interrupting?"

"Yeah, but you're not a normal person. Neither of us are." Chuuya sighed and sat up. "Stop wasting my valuable time. Say what you came to say or leave."

Dazai's cheerful face turned serious. He frowned slightly. "There's a guy on the move that I think you'd like to know about. I came out here and interrupted, because it's not like I could just send you an email."

"File or flash drive?" Chuuya asked. He grabbed his binoculars and peered through them. Still no Mr. Wite present.

"Flash drive. Use a burner laptop," Dazai suggested unhelpfully. He lobbed the small, cat-shaped device at his ex-partner.

"Of course I'm using a burner. No one in their right mind would trust a flashdrive from you enough to put it in something they have anything important on," Chuuya scoffed as he caught the small plastic cat.

Dazai smirked and shrugged. He stood up. "Well, as fun as hanging out as has been, I better be going," he chirped.

"Yeah, yeah. Bye. Don't drive Kunikida insane." Chuuya blinked as a thought hit him. "You didn't set this up as a fake hit in order to contact me, right?"

"Nope. You still have a target," Dazai assured as he walked away.

"That doesn't mean you're not the other politician, the client," Chuuya pointed out.

Dazai chuckled and stopped walking. "You are much better at catching possible omissions like that now. But no, I just heard about it, I have nothing to do with this hit. Anyways, good luck. Don't get caught! It would be a joy to see your mugshot, but a shame to get interrogated by the Special Abilities Department because we're ex-partners."

"Yeah, yeah," Chuuya grumbled and turned his mind back to his job. Thoughts of what Dazai was up to, who the unknown man was, and what the flashdrive contained would have to wait till later.

XXX

Age 23

Chuuya took off his shoes and placed them by the door. His keys were carefully placed in the blue quartz bowl by the door. He walked into the living room. Dazai was on Chuuya's couch, eating yogurt.

Chuuya sighed and ignored his ex-partner. He strolled into his kitchen and started making a sandwich for lunch. When he put everything back in the fridge, he checked for what Dazai took. A sudden thought struck him about how much yogurt he's had to buy recently.

"Have you been breaking into my apartment and eating my yogurt for the past few months?!" Chuuya yelled.

Dazai smirked as Chuuya stomped into the living room. He ate another spoonful of his stolen yogurt and replied, "Took you long enough to notice."

Chuuya scowled. "How long have you been doing this?"

Dazai held a hand to his chin. "Ehh, six or seven months?"

"You're stealing yogurt! It costs like...nothing!"

Dazai nodded. "Then you shouldn't mind me eating it."

"That wasn't my point and you know it! From now on, buy your own yogurt, you lazy waste of bandages," Chuuya stated with a frown.

"But Chuuya," Dazai whined.

Chuuya ignored the plea. "You either willingly leave by the front door or I will throw you out of a window," he threatened.

Dazai stuck his tongue out but complied. He took his yogurt with him, of course.

A/N

Bet: Dazai can't make twenty of the new recruits faint out of fear. If he can: Chuuya can't wear his hat for a week. If he can't: Dazai won't attempt to die for three days.

-Silver


	12. Falling

"Don't let the fear of falling keep you from flying." - Unknown

Chuuya knew he could fly since he was seven. At that time, he only dared hover a foot above the floor. He was scared of falling.

As the years went by, he grew more daring. Three feet, ten feet, thirty feet, fifty feet, a hundred feet...

He was still scared of falling. But only when Dazai was around.

XXX

Age 10

They were still children. A small spark of innocence still existed when it came to puddles, mud, and the light drizzle of rain droplets. Later on the spark would be snuffed out with firsthand knowledge of how rain covered your tracks, made the dirt easier to hide a body in, and how thunder masked the sound of a firing gun and drove possible citizen witnesses indoors. But today, Dazai and Chuuya played in the rain.

Chuuya would use his ability on himself, to add a bounce in his steps when he jumped away from Dazai's attempt to splash him and to add more heft to his landings when he tried to drench Dazai in one of the large puddles.

After a few minutes of Chuuya using his ability like this, Dazai braved the sprays of water and tapped Chuuya's wrist.

The redhead let out a loud yell. "Hey!"

Dazai grinned and splashed his partner who indignantly sputtered out the muddy water. The game of trying to hit each other with water while not being hit started anew.

They called a truce when they noticed that the clothes sticking to their skin had grown cold and clammy.

The rain started up again, cold droplets hitting their faces.

Chuuya picked up the umbrella he had put on the ground when they had started playing. It was a bright blue, somewhat transparent umbrella. It was far too large and heavy for one of them to use.

The two cooperated without dissent, holding the umbrella handle up together. Every time the umbrella canopy would lean towards covering more of one side, there would be a yelp and a tug from the other.

XXX

Age 13

Rain rattled the shingles on the roof. Trees leaned heavily and branches whipped around in the harsh wind. The road and pavement were already soaked and had gathered puddles.

The lightning that lit up the clouds was a lightbulb behind a lampshade. The thunder cracked over Yokohama with the bang of a cannon.

Chuuya flinched and the cookie in his hand crumbled to pieces. Dazai's grasp loosened and his glass of milk tumbled towards the tile. Chuuya instinctively reached for the glass with For the Tainted Sorrow and a red tint surrounded it. However, he was unable to save the milk and it splattered over the ground.

Wordlessly, Dazai grabbed a towel and cleaned up the cookie crumbs and milk. Chuuya refilled Dazai's glass.

The two children settled back down in the kitchen chairs. They were both scared by thunderstorms and couldn't fall asleep. So, they stayed awake together, eating cookies and drinking milk until the storm passed.

XXX

Age 15

Chuuya sat cross-legged. A scowl was firmly etched on his face. A red tint surrounded him, as he was sitting not on the floor, but on the ceiling.

Dazai gave up on coaxing his partner down and leapt. His hand barely managed to hit Chuuya's ankle.

With a panicked yell, Chuuya landed on Dazai. "Oww," both complained.

XXX

Age 17

Dazai confidently strolled up the roof. Red tiles shifted under every step but he paid them no mind. As long as a shingle he was putting his weight on didn't come loose, he would be fine. He made his way to the spine of the roof, a two feet wide white walkway.

He followed the walkway onto another roof and then the one beyond that. The latter was wide and flat with several garden patches. A railing surrounded the edges. He dropped down and made his way to the side where the building wasn't connected to another.

In this space, Chuuya floated in the sky. He was watching the sunset. Purple and pink clouds streaked across the light blue sky in a wavy pattern. The cigarette in his hand streamed white wisps of smoke.

Dazai climbed on the railing and stood up. He walked on the narrow beam with the grace of an experienced gymnast.

Chuuya glanced over to his left. He tensed up and his eyes narrowed.

Dazai hummed in thought and his eyes lit up. "Are you afraid of falling? That I'll take a sudden leap? That I'll jump and drag the two of us to our death?"

Chuuya frowned. He exhaled a lungful of smoke. "The… thought had crossed my mind," he admitted.

"I want a quick, energetic, painless, and inconvenient suicide!" Dazai exclaimed and then shrugged. "So! I can't jump. You'd try to stop me from dying. In which case I'd either fail my attempt or we'd both die. And the latter would be inconvenient for you. I know how much you want to live. You want to live more than any other person I've ever met," Dazai cheerfully pointed out.

"All of your suicide attempts are inconvenient for me." Chuuya grumbled, but relaxed slightly.

XXX

Age 20

With Dazai around, there was a chance of falling. That knowledge had unsettled Chuuya for years. He rarely dared to go flying because of that.

However, the brunette seemingly vanished from the earth after he left. Perhaps Dazai was dead-that would explain it. But Chuuya would bet a good bit of money that his ex-partner was alive and kicking. And with Dazai still alive, there would always be a chance of falling.

Still, Dazai was gone for now, and so Chuuya would take every chance to fly that he could.

Chuuya peered down at Yokohama between his feet. People were tiny dots. Roads were black streams. Buildings were small squares and rectangles. The bay was a dark black swath of water. Multi-colored lights bathed the city below. It was a pretty sight.

"A cloudy sky

dark golden light

plays off now

as it always was,

so high I can't help

looking down," Chuuya whispered.

The clouds drifted past. One enveloped him in its cold vapor. It was like being in the midst of a heavy fog.

XXX

Age 22

Dazai looked over the edge of the building. He was rather far up, he apathetically noted: fifty stories.

He turned his gaze back to his pursuers. They had chased him to the roof after he had successfully downloaded some very valuable information to the Agency's investigation.

"Dazai, don't move," Atsushi urged through Dazai's comm. All of the other ADA members were still on the tenth floor and could not provide back up.

The security team ordered him to put his hands up and allow himself to be searched. However, if they took the flash drives from him, it was game over. A very dangerous white collar felon would walk free and flee Japan, and he would continue to commit more crimes. There would be no leads to his associates; they would not be caught. The Agency's client, who had risked their life to ask for help and given the necessary security information would be a target. He, his wife, and children would all possibly be killed.

Which is why, Dazai couldn't chance allowing himself to be searched. He peered over the edge once again. Dazai laughed and calmly remarked, "I've always thought of attempting to die by falling off a skyscraper. After all, falling is just another way of flying."

"Dazai, no!" Atsushi and Kunikida yelled. Dazai smiled as he stepped backwards off of the roof. He enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness and the cutting air around him. It truly was flying, or that is, the closest way to experiencing what human flight would be like.

He sighed and did a partial back flip, so that his feet faced down and towards the building. After all, unfortunately, this was not a suicide attempt, he didn't plan on hitting the ground.

A red blur crashed into Dazai. There was the sound of glass breaking. Dazai felt something sharp hit his leg. He blacked out for several seconds.

XXX

When the brunette detective came to, it was to the angry face of his former partner. "You stupid, selfish, b*****d," Chuuya snarled.

Dazai grinned and cheerfully observed, "You came." He winced as he sat up.

Chuuya noticed two things: Dazai's face was paler than normal and there was a pool of blood forming under Dazai's right leg. With a frown, Chuuya slid up his former partner's pant leg to the knee. He carefully slipped the blood-soaked bandages off. The blood dying his black gloves would have been evident if not for their

color.

Kunikida and Atsushi burst into the room, ready to fight. The door closed behind them with a thud.

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "You don't have time for this. He has a bullet wound in his leg and might have a concussion from the impact."

Kunikida strode towards and stood beside the Port Mafia member. "What do we need to do?"

"I need a hand to help stop the bleeding," Chuuya ordered. Dazai grumbled about being ignored.

"Atsushi, go find Yosano. We can handle it for now." Kunikida told the weretiger. With a frown, Atsushi ran out of the room.

Chuuya peeled off his black gloves, pressed them against the wound, and re-bandaged the area. He quickly instructed his 'assistant,' "Kunikida, apply pressure to the popliteal."

A short time later, the dark-haired doctor and the weretiger burst through the door.

"Yosano," Chuuya acknowledged and stood up. The Armed Detective Agency's doctor brushed past him and immediately started asking Dazai questions while check the wound of her coworker.

"Why'd you help?" Atsushi suspiciously questioned the Port Mafia Executive.

Chuuya shrugged and pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. "It'd be a shame for him to die right after I went through all the trouble of saving him."

Atsushi pulled a face of absolute confusion. At the sight, Dazai laughed.

'Exactly like Dazai, Chuuya must have picked it up from him.' Kunikida thought with a roll of his eyes. Yosano merely shook her head at the conversation and focused on making sure Dazai didn't die.

Chuuya lit his cigarette and lazily waved goodbye as he walked out the door.

XXX

Age 23

Dazai hummed as he strolled down the familiar white path. The small sprouts of growing flowers and vegetables poked out of the small garden squares. The large rooftop wasn't empty, as Dazai expected. Chuuya sat on the railing on the far side, his back to Dazai.

Dazai weaved his way around the pockets of earth and leaned against the railing. It creaked slightly as he put his weight on it. "What are you doing here?" Dazai asked.

Chuuya's hands tensed around the blue umbrella in his lap. "Ah. I didn't hear you come in," he muttered.

"That's unusual. It's also unusual that you're not smoking," Dazai observed.

"I was thinking. And it's my day off, a*****e. Tons of less stress I have to deal with, until now of course," Chuuya snapped. Dazai smirked, shrugged, and put his hands in his coat pockets.

Chuuya sighed. "Come on," he stated, standing up and offering a hand. His other hand kept hold of his umbrella.

Dazai stared at Chuuya, his eyes wide. "Are you sure?"

"Just promise you won't try to die while we're out there, yeah?" Chuuya clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Of course," Dazai promised, his voice serious enough for his ex-partner to believe him. Dazai grabbed Chuuya's hand, and Chuuya pulled Dazai up onto the railing. Chuuya opened his umbrella and stepped out onto thin air. His ability surrounded him with a faint red glow.

Dazai smirked and stepped out, keeping a tight hold on his ex-partner's hand. Chuuya's glove provided the necessary barrier between their skin. Without it, both would have plummeted to the ground.

Hanging from Chuuya's hand, Dazai craned his head around to see everything he could and smiled. The breeze tugged at his hair, clothes, and bandages.

"Honestly, it's a good thing you're such a twig. You practically weigh nothing," Chuuya joked. He adjusted his grip on the handle of his blue umbrella.

"True. But you have much better wind resistance compared to me," Dazai innocently replied. He swept his gaze over the few sleepy, unfortunate people who were up and on their way to work before sunrise.

"Dazai, I will drop you," Chuuya threatened. Dazai grinned.

A/N

"A cloudy sky, dark golden light, plays off now as it always was, so high I can't help looking down." - Autumn poem, by Chuuya Nakahara

-Silver


	13. Distrust

Age 14

When they were fourteen, they fought in a dimly lit cramped hallway. Dazai's knuckles had knocked against Chuuya's while they were both attempted to punch someone. About two minutes later, they failed their missions as result of Chuuya not being able to use his ability.

Mori immediately forced them to not have any missions for a month and instead made them train together to solve the problem. Being able to fight multiple people without hitting their partner was child's play by the twenty sixth day of practice.

After that, they were always in sync. But perhaps, not always on the same page.

XXX

Age 15

Once you spent enough time with him, one could tell everything Dazai did had a fake quality to it. As if reality was a stage play and and he a tired actor. There were a few moments when that duplicity was not there. The rare times Dazai genuinely laughed or gave a smile that reached his eyes.

However, Chuuya knew this was the not true for the man sitting across from Double Black. Mr. Koshi could not see that Dazai's smile couldn't have been more fake if it had been made of plastic. However, whether a Port Mafia member was a sadist or not changed little about one's response to a break in.

"Mr. Koshi, we're trying to be polite. But if you keep pointing a gun at my partner, I'm going to have to kill you," Chuuya stated.

The man didn't flinch, instead he kept up a small fake smile of his own. His main characteristic among the Yakuza was his poker face after all. "My apologies. But it always pays to have insurance when two Port Mafia members show up in your living room."

Dazai flickered his gaze towards Chuuya, he blinked calmly at his partner. His shoulders-cloaked by his too large black trench coat-were lowered.

Chuuya sighe, he grumbled something under his breath as he relaxed. He would trust that Dazai had this taken care of, and that his partner wouldn't botch the job so he could meet a quick end by way of Mr. Koshi's gun.

Dazai turned his gaze back towards Mr. Koshi, his smile still intact. "Before we begin our business, I'd liked to remind you of some people." He slowly slipped some photos out of his jacket pocket. He casually fanned them out in his hand.

It was hard to get a veteran government agent to bend to your will. Dazai had needed leverage, something good. Something...or someone…precious to Mr. Koshi. It had taken him a few hours of scouring to find them, his leverage.

Struck by fear, Mr. Koshi forgot to breathe for a split second. He slowly, calmly sucked in a breath. He had already known the Port Mafia would use whatever they could against him. He just didn't know how the h*ll they had found his family.

It took twenty minutes for Dazai to visibly shatter Mr. Koshi's composure. At that time, it was a record, and it continued to be an unbroken record for the person able to withstand Dazai's psychological manipulation tricks.

Mr. Koshi survived the encounter but wisely moved to a different city in order to continue his cons.

XXX

Age 16

"Oi, where the h*ll is the yogurt?" Chuuya asked.

Dazai smiled slightly. He had hidden the last yogurt cup so that Chuuya wouldn't eat it. "I don't know. Check the refrigerator door again?"

"Liar," Chuuya immediately accused as he entered the living room.

"What? Don't you trust me? Why would I lie to you?" Dazai innocently stared at his partner, eyes large and a pout on his lips.

"Yeah...why wouldn't I trust you?" Chuuya sardonically questioned. "The person who can lie without feeling guilty."

XXX

Dazai ground Mr. Suzuki's face into the sharp rocky path. Chuuya grimaced.

"Give us the information we asked for," Dazai demanded.

Two young teenagers, just old enough to not be called children, threatened and terrified a thirty two year old man. It would have been a pitiful scene of two teens trying to assert themselves if not for their identities. The chill they brought with them turned the scene very different. They wore a professionally cold apathy with as much comfort and familiarity as the heavy black trench coats around their shoulders in the winter cold.

"Okay, okay, they're at Mr. Ito's mistress' apartment in Sagahimara City. Now, let me go. Please," Mr. Suzuki begged.

"Of course, of course," Dazai assured with a happy grin. He took his foot off of Mr. Suzuki's head. "Chuuya, if you would," he requested with a downwards gesture towards their informer.

For the Tainted Sorrow clamped around Mr. Suzuki's body. With a bright gleam in his eye, Dazai shot Mr. Suzuki's hands.

Mr. Suzuki screamed. His body twitched as he tried to cradle his hands even while under the weight of gravity pinning him to the ground. His palms, near the knuckles, had a circle blasted through them. Blood streamed out onto the rocks and the white bits of shattered bones were easily visible. Chuuya frowned, the man was a sorry sight.

Dazai shot Mr. Suzuki in the throat and the sounds of sobs and screams stopped.

"Well, looks like we're taking a field trip," Dazai joked. He held his gun off to the side, as the nozzle was still hot.

"That was unnecessary," Chuuya murmured. His lips twisted crookedly in a feeling of distaste.

"So?"

XXX

Age 17

'Don't ever spring something like this on me again,' was the original deal. But, Dazai hadn't held to it.

Chuuya's eyes had always been somewhere between a quiet inlet and a raging storm at sea. Unless, Chuuya was beyond just 'angry', a mental mode Dazai had jokingly dubbed 'Short-stack of Wrath'. However that silly name had been only said in Dazai's attempt to push off his wariness, as a cold Chuuya was far more deadly than any other version. Which is why Dazai briefly stopped grinning when he saw Chuuya's eyes. A tenseness coiled around Dazai's black heart as he observed a glacier form from a maelstrom.

"You," Chuuya hissed.

Dazai jumped away from the swipe with about an inch to spare. A kick followed directly after, if Chuuya had been playing around it would have been slow and Dazai would have skip-hopped away. But, Chuuya wasn't playing. Dazai grimaced as a black boot harshly made contact with his side. He quickly retreated two steps back.

"What about me?" Dazai asked with a smirk.

"I'm done," Chuuya icily announced.

Dazai cocked an eyebrow. "With what, my dear partner?" He mockingly asked. It was a ploy, a way to act confident even while he anticipated his execution.

"I'm done with you not telling me things important to the mission. Do you like seeing me confused? Am I a child you're trying to awe? Or am I child to only be told things and paid attention to when it suits you?" Chuuya seethed. His eyes locked with Dazai's once more, containing as much ice as the Arctic.

It was time for Dazai to do the only thing he could not to end up with a brutal drawn out demise. "If you're not satisfied, let's make a pact." Dazai lazily waved a hand, a serious gleam in his eye. "Every time I don't tell you something important to a mission that I know, you can punch me."

Chuuya's smirked, crookedly. "Well, then, I'm collecting last mission's due." He grinned as he socked his partner in the solar plexus.

Dazai choked, he already regretted making such a generous offer. But it was better than dying in a painful, drawn out way.

XXX

Chuuya sat on the couch, right on top of Dazai's feet. Dazai frowned and wiggled his feet out from under Chuuya's weight. On Chuuya's plate was a newly made pastrami and provolone sandwich with lettuce. He narrowed his eyes at Dazai's bowl of French vanilla yogurt. "Did you use my agave?"

"No," Dazai replied with a shake of his head.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes and went into the kitchen. He came back into the living room with a spoon in his hand.

Although he tried to move away, Dazai failed to keep his bowl of yogurt away from his partner.

Chuuya promptly stuck the spoonful he had successfully stolen into his mouth. He waited a second, mulling over the flavor. He frowned and declared,. "This definitely has agave in itHe glared at Dazai. "This is why I don't trust you around my things! You do stuff without asking!"

Dazai sank back into the couch, relaxing. The innocent look he had on was quickly marred by a smug smirk.

Chuuya growled something under his breath.

XXX

From the moment Chuuya staggered into Dazai's office, Dazai could smell the cigarettes Chuuya had been smoking. His redheaded partner had likely had a pack, or three, while drinking a bottle, or two.

Dazai sighed as he turned off his laptop and put it in a messenger bag. Chuuya post massacre was an annoyance to deal with. "Alright, you need to sleep." He looped his partner's arm around his neck and started dragging Chuuya out of his office.

The hallways were largely empty. Most people were asleep or out on jobs. The few still there recognized that the two were executives-plus Soukoku of all people-and immediately decided to mind their own business.

The elevator presented a slight problem as Chuuya almost hit his head against the wall when Dazai pressed the Down and Level 1 buttons.

Walking through the streets was fine, it was about eleven at night after all. People didn't pay much notice to two assumed to be adults. A guy was just making sure his drunk friend got home safe.

Chuuya's eyes light up as he looked at a small clothes store. He pulled Dazai towards the entrance with surprising strength considering his mental state. "You need to wear something with color. It's like you're a dreary businessman or something. You're seventeen, you need to lighten up."

Dazai sighed and went along with it. No need to cause a scene. And, hopefully, Chuuya would be easier to manage after this.

XXX

Chuuya sat on the living room couch, a cup of coffee in one hand. The other hand held his forehead and blocked the overhead light in an attempt to ease his humongous headache.

There was a click as Dazai turned off the stove in the kitchen. He walked in and handed Chuuya a plate of scrambled eggs. Then he settled down beside his partner in the couch, devouring his own food with delight.

"Did I buy you a bolo tie last night or did I hallucinate...all that?" Chuuya asked.

He dragged a hand down his face, already despairing over his past life choices.

"Nope. You bought me a bolo tie," Dazai confirmed.

Chuuya stabbed an egg, observing it with a faint smile. It was slightly funny, he had to admit. "I must have been really out of it," he wryly commented. Mentally, he made a note to not go overboard with drinks when drowning his sorrows. "Although, you do need to wear something colorful. You could do with not looking like an almost dead human crow," he coaxed.

Dazai wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out. "Yeah...I'm not wearing that bolo tie."

XXX

Age 18

Port Mafia Executives were supposed to stand in their own. They were representatives of the highest echelon.

Mori held the executives to a standard that would be absurd for any but those who earn the title. How one earned the title was mutual across the board: bloodshed, power, and cunning.

Dazai knew this. Yet he couldn't pass over this whisper. If the rumor was true, his partner, shorter half of Double Black, was going to be ambushed in exactly forty six minutes.

XXX

^)))) : There's going to be an attack on you and your men

Chuuya's fingers tightened around his phone.

Slug: When?

^)))) : Thirty seven minutes

Slug: Plan?

^)))) : Shame and Toad

XXX

Shame and Toad was a strategy Dazai and Chuuya had recently come up with. One drew the fire of the enemy, while the other launched a sneak attack. In this case, Chuuya was the one that was going to ambushed, and Dazai would ambush the enemies.

Chuuya kept his head when the shooting started. He quickly yelled an order. His men split up and hide among the crates, returning fire when possible.

The ambushers hide behind the crates near the entrance.

At the large open double doors of the warehouse, Dazai and his men stood. At the click of their superior's fingers, they opened fire.

XXX

Dazai flicked his index finger against his glass. Soft chimes rang out as the ball of ice hit the glass side.

"What did you two do?" Ango asked.

Odasaku sighed. "I collected money from some of the stores that pay us safety money."

"I did paperwork most of the day," Dazai lit up in excitement, "I did ambush someone this evening." He frowned. "But it wasn't dangerous at all," he lamented.

XXX

Age 22

Dazai had been careful about what he told the Agency. Fukuzawa had been looking for information on Port Mafia members that might be sent after the hiding detectives. Obviously, the Director came to Dazai. The former executive gave the minimum of what any Yokohama info broker would hear and corrected what was untrue. If Dazai had spilled the metaphorical beans about everything and everyone...well, lets just say the information Dazai had in his head was very valuable, too valuable to tell others for multiple reasons.

XXX

Age 23

Dazai apathetically stared at the body. "It's a Port Mafia member," he quietly revealed.

By Dazai's side, Atsushi started. "The assassin killed a Port Mafia member. But..that's dangerous. Why?"

"It seems that Mr. Nakamura didn't just have dealings with the Red River smuggling ring," Dazai explained in a low voice. His eyes were dark.

"He was involved with the Port Mafia? As an assassin?" Atsushi whispered. His eyes were wide in curiosity and fear.

"I have an idea! Let's go over there!" Dazai chirped and pointed across the street.

"To a dark alley? When there was a murder committed just across the street from it?" Atsushi questioned and gaped in disbelief.

Dazai grinned. "Yup." He strolled towards the alley.

"D-Dazai?" Atsushi questioned before running after.

"Oi, Dazai, Atsushi where are you going?" Kunikida called out. He quickly ended his conversation with the police and followed his partners.

Dazai casually leaned his back against the alley way. Atsushi fidgeted and constantly looked around.

Kunikida entered, a scowl on his face. "Would you mind telling me the reason you two ran off while we're supposed to be investigating? And I swear, Dazai, if you're procrastinating or if this is one if your pranks again-"

Dazai smirked and interrupted. "As much as I love causing you grief, Kunikida, no. I do have a real reason. Mr. Nakamura killed a Port Mafia member. Since they know the Agency is Involved, I'm involved, and there's a truce, they'll send someone to work with us.

"Someone?" Atsushi asked, tilting his head.

Kunikida raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying they're only sending one person?"

Dazai grinned. "Yup. Mori only needs to send that person the one who knows me best."

"What?" The other two detectives asked.

"So kind of you to show up, Chibi. Although, I thought it would take you a shorter time to walk here. I must have forgotten to take your short leg span into account," Dazai called out teasingly.

Atsushi blinked. He then stared, confused. The scene in front of him had shifted in a split second. A man that was only vaguely familiar to Atsushi had a knife to Dazai's throat; Dazai was holding a gun to the other man's head. Dazai had his head tilted up and away from the knife in order to not get cut.

"Come on Chuuya, can't take a joke?" Dazai teased.

"Not one that's gotten old," Chuuya dryly replied. His eyes were narrow slits of hard lapis lazuli.

Dazai took his finger off the trigger and raised his palms up. "So, are you planning on killing me and doing me a favor or are we going to do our jobs?"

"If our jobs didn't involve each other, I'm sure we'd both be much happier." Chuuya removed his knife from Dazai's throat and slid it back in his coat pocket.

"True, true." Dazai smiled, a resigned look on his face. "But we really can never seem to be rid of one another," he agreed.

"Yes, but, moving on, the faster we get this over with the sooner we don't have to brush shoulders during work hours." Chuuya scowled.

"Of course, of course. We're going to be busy 'til tonight, so tomorrow at ten work for you?" Dazai asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world. How about we try out the one next to Kouyou's old place this time?" Chuuya mused.

Dazai's eyes lit up. "Ooh, sounds fun. We were too young to try anything out back then."

Kunikida gave a polite cough. "Back to the smuggler you want dead and we want in a jail cell?"

XXX

For the first day, Atsushi hide behind Kunikida whenever the Port Mafia member was around.

On the second, Atsushi timidly started asking questions again about why they were doing things a particular way or how the others knew a certain thing. Chuuya, the Port Mafia member that now didn't seem so dreadful and scary, patiently explained. Meanwhile, Dazai would be annoying Kunikida or the two exploring other things.

The third day, Kyouka came with them. She froze up at the sight of the Port Mafia member that had waited a block down the street. "Chuuya," she greeted.

"Kyouka, I'm glad to see you doing well," the Port Mafia member replied. He nodded towards her and gave a smile. Kyouka relaxed and shyly smiled back.

"You two know each other?" Atsushi asked.

"Of course," Dazai chirped. "Ane-san mentored Chuuya as well. They could easily be considered siblings."

Atsushi scrunched his eyebrows together. "Really?"

"Of a sort." Chuuya shrugged.

The fourth day was when things got...weird. Honestly, Atsushi wondered why he was still shocked by things. Yokohama and everyone in it is insane, why would he expect anything normal to happen when they tracked down a fleeing murderous smuggler.

"Well, I saw this coming," Dazai chirped.

The wave of water heading towards the beach was already the size of a five story building. As it approached, the rise in floor led it to go even higher.

"Crimson dragonfly?" Chuuya suggested. *

Dazai grinned. "You read my mind."

"Well, I hope you're willing to share the plan you came up with," Kunikida butted in.

Behind the two blase and one annoyed observers, Atsushi was frozen in fear.

XXX

A smirk crawled onto Chuuya and Dazai's faces. The team of four were sopping wet. But no one had died and the smuggler was currently unconscious and tied up.

Atsushi and Kunikida were getting the last few injured citizens to medical help.

"I've got sand between my bandages," Dazai commented with a grimace. He shifted uncomfortably, the irritating grains of sand rubbed against his skin. "I'm going to have to re-wrap the moment I get back to my apartment. Why couldn't Mr. Nakamura have some more mundane, less deadly ability?"

"Like what, the ability to make copious amounts of sugary foods from thin air? That'd be a nice change of pace, I'd be up for that battle," Chuuya joked.

Dazai snorted. "Imagine trying to smother someone in cotton candy or stab someone with a candy bar."

Chuuya held his chin in thought. He paid no attention the small grains of salt and the stickiness of his gloves from sweat. "The former is not very effective. Everyone would just eat their way out. As for the chocolate bars, they're way too blunt, not good for stabbing or slashing." He smiled. "So unless the person got a giant bar and started running around bludgeoning people with it..."

Dazai chuckled.

Chuuya snapped his fingers. "Right," he muttered as he suddenly remembered. Chuuya turned slightly and punched Dazai in the chest.

"Right, the pact," Dazai dryly wheezed.

"D*mn right, the pact, you a**hole."

A/N

* The strategy name is a reference to Chuuya's poem 'Dedicated to a dragonfly'.

"Against a flawless autumn sky

A crimson dragonfly is taking flight

As I am standing in a meadow

Nothing in the waning evening light..."

-Silver


	14. Epilogue-Hope

"Hope is the little voice whispering 'maybe', when the whole world shouts 'no!'"--Unknown

Age 18

Five days after Odasaku's death

Chuuya stared at the cat sitting on the chair to his right. The cat stretched and jumped off the chair. Chuuya flicked his gaze to the right.

'It's just Dazai,' Chuuya thought and turned back to his cup. He frowned and tried to ignore the signs, the few unusual signs. Like number one, Dazai looked far too cheerful after his friend's recent death and the recent breakdown he had in Chuuya's apartment.

Dazai pulled the glass out of his drunken partner's reach. "If you keep drinking like this you're going to need a new liver before you get old," he teased.

"You're leaving, aren't you? You're halfway through a mission and you'll disappear?" Chuuya mumbled.

Dazai tensed. His shoulders rose from their relaxed position and he straightened up.

"I'll hate you," Chuuya stated as he pulled his glass back.

"Not much different than usual then?" Dazai quipped.

Chuuya slowly blinked, the brilliant blue of his eyes was completely covered for a moment. He cracked his eyelid open."This time, the hate will actually stick around," he predicted.

"Well, you're not coming with me?" Dazai offered his partner. But both of them knew it was just a polite gesture, it was a choice that wasn't open to Chuuya.

Chuuya looked Dazai in the eye. The drunken state gave way to the serious side of the ginger. "You know I can't," Chuuya quietly stated.

The bartender kept his head down. He had kept the conversations in this bar secret for years. He could only keep quiet and watch, interrupting would not help. The silence was only broken by the light breathing of three people and cloth on glass.

"When you can..." Dazai trailed off. Both knew what Dazai meant, the end to what he said.

Chuuya closed his eyes and took another sip of wine. "Leave before I have to hunt you down."

Dazai mockingly grinned, his eyebrows shooting up. "How do you know I already left? I could-"

"There's a USB in your left pocket," Chuuya interrupted.

Dazai pouted. "So? I could have-"

"You were afraid I could convince you out of what you had planned. So, the only way to stop my interference is to put your plan irrevocably into movement before you came here. All to give a s*t goodbye," Chuuya guessed. The look on his face was resigned and slightly bitter.

The brief smile and snort of laughter was all the confirmation Chuuya needed.

"Yeah..." Dazai lazily admitted. He stood up, stretched, and loudly popped his neck. "Bye, hat rack. Don't get any shorter or people will think you're a garden gnome."

"Thanks for the advice," Chuuya muttered with irritation. "Don't strangle yourself with bandages while sleeping."

"That's a good idea." Dazai cheerfully placed a hand under his chin.

Chuuya huffed. "Just...just leave Mackerel."

Dazai clasped Chuuya lightly on the shoulder. Chuuya turned his head just enough to lock eyes. One pair held uneasy peace and stalwart determination, and one pair held a tug a war between anger and forgiveness. Both held plentiful sorrow and more words than could be spoken in a lifetime. Dazai let go of his now ex-partner's shoulder and left Lupin.

A few seconds later, Chuuya left as well, he had decided to stop drinking for now. Although, he might feel like cracking open another bottle when he went to Headquarters in a few hours.

They walked in opposite directions, their backs entrusted to each other.

Will they ever head the same way? Like they used to? Will one ever turn?

Rain hit the two umbrellas, one blue and one black. One of the men lit a cigarette, and both wondered if things could have ever been different.

'When you can...there's always a place for you.'

XXX

Age 19

Chuuya frowned at his intricately painted teacup and saucer. He was already halfway through his cup of peppermint tea.

Kouyou carefully began, "about Dazai-"

Chuuya shook his head vehemently. He turned his scowl towards Kouyou. "I don't want to talk about him."

Kouyou set down her teacup with a harsh clink. "But you need to. You need to talk to somebody," she argued.

"Later, Ane-san," Chuuya decided as he got out of his chair.

Kouyou sighed as she watched her former apprentice walk away. Chuuya's performance in the field had not dropped, but he had undoubtedly grown more withdrawn.

XXX

Age 20

Dazai sighed and scrolled through the news feed on his phone. Stakeouts were as boring as ever.

Kunikida opened his book. He flipped to a page somewhere near the middle. "Forgiveness is a large ideal of mine. But it is hard to uphold," he suddenly stated.

Dazai scoffed as his face hardened. "Forgiveness? It leaves the naive open for manipulation. The clever are too paranoid to approach the subject." He waved a hand flippantly. "The humble ask and are open to subjugation. The proud are too afraid to ask because they can't handle getting on their knees and begging."

"Naivety is fixed by experience. Humility doesn't mean one is a pushover." Kunikida's lips curled down into a harsh scowl.

Dazai smirked and shook his head. He had a mocking look on his face still, the same one he had held throughout the conversation.

"Is there anyone you hope you could reconcile with?" Kunikida asked. His curiosity was visible in the gleam of his eyes and the way his eyebrows slid upwards.

Dazai's smirk fell. He narrowed his eyes and went back to looking at his phone. He did not answer.

XXX

Age 22

There's something to be said for the situation in which the person you hate the most is your only lifeline.

Chuuya woke up in the middle of a clearing. It was still night time. Dazai had left him, although admittedly Chuuya's lost clothes had been found and folded up nearby.

But still, Dazai had left him in the middle of a meadow at night. "That son of a b*h," Chuuya ranted.

Trusting the suicidal maniac was foolish and deadly, especially when they stood on opposite sides. Chuuya could not believe he trusted Dazai...and that he still did.

Regardless of reasons, the fact remained he had left. Four years ago, Dazai had stabbed him through the back. The tip of the sharp, serrated knife had skewered his head. The betrayal was swift and painful, the days after were long and painful.

But...Wounds healed with time. The hole in his back scabbed over. If one treated it correctly, it will not get infected. If one did not pick at it, it will not fester. With time a wound will be gone or scar.

However, for Chuuya and Dazai, their wound had festered. Instead of their mutual trust still somehow remaining being good, it was poisonous to them. It was insidious faith and bond that they could not cut.

Their team up against the Guild had reminded them of what they once were.

The best of friends are not easily pulled apart. But, also, they cannot easily get back together. For it will never be like it was, and they will always wonder if they could have not screwed their friendship up.

XXX

Chuuya rested his head against the wood with a groan. Outside, the neon sign for Lupin tiredly glowed. A cat meowed and rubbed a paw over one of its ears.

The Port Mafia Executive didn't hear the feather-light steps on the stairs.

"Whiskey on the rocks," a familiar voice ordered. Chuuya opened a bloodshot eye to see his ex-partner sit on the stool to his left.

The bartender nodded and quickly fixed a glass. He slid it over to Dazai.

With a bored smile, Dazai flicked his cup, the ice clinked.

"Why are you here?" Chuuya hissed.

Dazai smiled innocently, "I was-"

"Bull," Chuuya tiredly snapped. His patience was already worn thin by the day's events, he couldn't deal with his annoying ex-partner's stupid, false story.

"I came to talk." Dazai laced his hands and put his chin on them.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. "Eh? What? We hate each other." He took a sip from his glass, his tone turned mocking, "You didn't think that one fight meant we are friends or something, right?"

Dazai smirked but kept his gaze firmly on his whiskey. "I left. I'm sorry if that put you in an awkward position...but..." He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you giving excuses or are you apologizing?"

"...I'm sorry...I'm apologizing for the way I left."

Chuuya winced. "This...Okay, that gives me a weird feeling. God, this feels bizarre. Apology accepted."

Dazai happily grinned. "Oh? Why is it so strange?"

"Because it's you. You're an a*shole. You never outright asked to be forgiven for anything, even though you're an absolute a*s," Chuuya deadpanned.

Dazai laughed. "Aww, I didn't think you thought that highly of me," he joked, a teasing grin on his face.

Chuuya rolled his eyes but didn't reply.

The conversation died out for a long time. Chuuya smoked and drank. Dazai sipped his whiskey. The bartender cleaned glasses and other things behind the counter.

"So...can you leave your 'job', now?" Dazai asked.

"No. Maybe..." Chuuya hesitated. "Maybe in a year. Maybe."

"Maybe." Dazai echoed, a bittersweet smile twisted his lips. Both of them knew Chuuya leaving would be a lie, unless something happened to Kouyou in the near future.

Dazai flicked his fingers against his quarter full glass of whiskey. "I'll be the one waiting this time."

Chuuya snorted. He emptied his glass of wine and poured himself another.

"Hmm...is it worse to be the one waiting or the one who makes others wait?" Dazai mused.

"The one waiting." Chuuya grimaced, "I hate waiting. It's so boring. What about you?" He knowingly remarked, "You've experienced both."

"You always were impatient," Dazai commented. He smiled.

"I can watch a target for hours," Chuuya countered. "And, you're avoiding the question."

Dazai sighed, dramatically. "The person who makes others wait."

Chuuya smirked and exhaled a small cloud of smoke. "Really? I assumed it'd be the opposite. Since you do so much of that."

"I love it as much as you love classical music," Dazai shot back with a smirk of his own.

"Oi, I'll have you know that I actually like Chopin."

It will never be like it was. It will hopefully be better. It most likely will not be. But maybe...maybe it will.

A/N

"Is it worse to be the one waiting or the one who makes others wait?" Is a reference to Run Melos by Osamu Dazai.

I had a long shift at work. I come home, read some fanfiction, and realize about two hours later that, "oh yeah, it's Saturday. Did I post anything today? ...Nope. Better get on that."

This is the last chapter, but not the last part of this story. There are two omakes, they should be out soon. Also, I'm planning to write a sequel...sometime.

-Silver


	15. Omake I

Snippets and ideas that didn't make the cut.

1) Unspoken

"Best friends have conversations impossible to understand by other people." -Anonymous

A silent conversation seemed to go on when Dazai and Chuuya were in the same room. It was the weird telepathic communication possible between best friends and parents. However, for them, their communication-transferred through glares-consisted of death threats, suicide jokes, and the occasional strategy.

2) Anger

"The one that angers you, controls you."

-Anonymous

"Anger is a short madness."

-Horace

Age 23

Chuuya held his knife to man's throat. As to why he was holding the man hostage, the Armed Detective Agency needed the man alive as the only lead to a smuggling ring.

Atsushi, Kunikida and Dazai stood around around the two, ready to fight. The detectives hadn't been expecting the Port Mafia to be involved, and an executive at that.

"I've been ordered to bring this man to the Boss," Chuuya stated calmly.

Dazai smirked, he found Chuuya's current state of iron clad emotional control amusing; he considered what what he was going to do next. His smirk deepened as the simple solution came to him.

"You don't know, do you?" Dazai asked, his tone smug.

"Know what? Don't play mind games with me, Dazai. I'll know if you are lying," Chuuya exasperatedly retorted.

Dazai smiled, a smile full of smugness, bitterness, and the slightest bit of sympathy. The rest of the ADA looked uneasily at Dazai. He then said the three words in Chuuya's presence that could doom anyone in Yokohama.

"He, sells, kids," Dazai enunciated each word, his eyes locked with his former partner's. The gaze dared Chuuya to accuse Dazai of lying, dared Chuuya to think that maybe Mori hadn't told him something.

Everyone there could feel it. That something was not physically perceivable, yet everyone could feel it. Something snapped within the executive.

Chuuya looked down at the ground and closed his eyes. Then a bright smile crossed the red head's face. It looked cheerful, but it wasn't, one could tell it was blank. As if the smile was not perfect teeth pulled into a perfectly shaped grin, but an unfeeling chasm that one might fall into unaware.

"Is that true?" Chuuya asked the man, the abyss-like smile still poised on his face. The man swallowed hard, but refused to answer.

"Is it true?" Chuuya questioned his hostage again. At the silence, the knife slide across the man's skin for a few inches. A small droplet of blood collected from the cut. The man swallowed as result from his nerves, steeled himself, and nodded. The smile on Chuuya's face grew unnerving larger, like a black hole that had just eaten a galaxy and had only gotten more hungry.

"Dazai, do you need him alive?" Chuuya asked his the ex-partner, the executive's eyes were still on the unnerved man at the tip of his knife. Atsushi bite his lip and looked hopefully at Dazai.

"Alive...But I don't think any of us could do anything if you were to harm him. After all...you're holding him hostage." Dazai innocently replied, the undertone of 'go ahead' was clear to those present. Kunikida shot his partner a glare for what Dazai implied.

"Of course. I suggest that the weretiger look away, this is going to get a bit messy," Chuuya half cooed. He cast a meaningful gaze at Atsushi.

Atsushi shivered. Chuuya"s eyes were usually a raging sea. Now, they were dark expect for the slightest flicker of...something. Like many others before him, Atsushi couldn't find the words to describe it.

Dazai placed a hand over Atsushi's eyes. Atsushi flinched at the screams and shivered at the whimpers. Dazai stood stock still, watching with attitude of someone who's used to torture of the most gruesome type. Kunikida's fingers twitched and fiddled with his glasses, his face far more pale then usual.

After what seemed like an eternity to Atsushi, Chuuya dropped the bloodied mess of a man to the ground. "The scum's business files should be in the third door on the left on the second floor. If you let one member of his group go free, I will hunt them down myself. And then I will kill you, Dazai, in the most painful way I can think of," Chuuya cheerfully declared. The smile was still present, every glance towards his direction made Atsushi's skin crawl.

"How are you going to deal with Mori?" Dazai asked, a mocking playful look on his face.

Chuuya clicked his tongue dismissively. "Worry about your new apprentice, he looks like he's going to throw up," he snarked.

Dazai frowned, his eyes in that moment were as empty as Chuuya's. The Mafia executive walked out of the room, leaving the Armed Detective members to their shock and their job.

XXX

The door to the Boss's office was only three feet from Chuuya's polished shoes.

The Executive held his hat to his chest, willed his left hand to stop twitching towards his knife, and moved his previously blank face into a carefully polite expression. "Chuuya," he announced his name to the guards. They opened the doors and he stepped in.

The Boss put down his pen and folded his hands. "This is the first time you've returned empty handed," he mused, "what happened?"

Chuuya frowned, "three members of the armed detective agency arrived before me."

Mori raised an eyebrow, "was one of them Dazai?"

"Yes," Chuuya admitted. His left hand twitched slightly.

"What kept you from completing your mission?" Mori asked. His face had gone from cheerful to blank.

"As I said, three members of the ADA. Dazai, Kunikida, and Atsushi," Chuuya stated.

"A formidable force," Mori acknowledged. He smiled, "You are dismissed; Although Elise told me to tell you to take her shopping later...Do you mind?"

"Not at all Boss," Chuuya replied with a sincere smile.

XXX

Dazai had found a lead. Now that was great, aside from the fact they were sneaking into someone's house. Atsushi didn't know how, but somehow, Dazai had convinced Kunikida that breaking into a abandoned house in the outskirts of Yokohama was the right course of action.

Dazai strolled, Atsushi tiptoed, and Kunikida strode through the first and second floors. There was little out of the ordinary.

Then Dazai found and quickly opened the door to the basement.

They split up in the gigantic underground floor. Part of the place was full of cars with a large garage door, which made sense as the house was on a hill. There was a side full of long lasting food: jerky, cans of vegetables and tuna, and containers of different grains such as flour and whole oats.

Atsushi was the one who discovered the room full of empty cages. There was something in one of them. Or...someone...?

The white haired young man hesitantly edged closer so that he could make sure as to what was inside. His horrified gaze was stuck on the body and its bloodied clothes.

"Atsushi?" Kunikida asked, the man stepped into the room. He walked over to his young colleague and then saw the cage and its occupant. The blond's lips turned down into a frown.

Their annoying companion skipped into the room.

"Oh? What are you two so sad about?" Dazai cheerily asked and skipped over. His smile fell as he saw inside the cage.

"We need to help him, but we don't have the key, and we don't know when the owner is going to be back, and-" Atsushi rambled.

Dazai sighed, "Atsushi, calm down."

Kunikida withdrew his notebook and quickly scribbled on it. A key formed in his hand and he inserted it into the lock.

Kunikida opened the cage door and Dazai lackadaisicaly wandered in.  
The long red hair had been visible from outside as had the hat in one of the corners. Dazai rolled over the body. His eyes went dark as he confirmed the identity of the unconscious figure: Chuuya Nakahara.

Dazai picked up his ex-partner and walked out of the cell. In a detached voice he asked, "Atsushi, would you grab his hat?"

"Okay," the weretiger shakily replied.

XXX

Chuuya lay on the infirmary's bed. He had been healed by Yosano and been changed out of his dirtied bloody clothes.

"He's still asleep," Yosano said as the infirmary door opened. Dazai walked in.

She turned one of Chuuya's arms over and pointed at a slightly red spot that surrounded a hole. "My guess is that he was injected with a sleeping agent of some kind. He may be asleep for several hours. Anyways, I'm going to go shopping."

"Have fun," Dazai called after their resident doctor. He sighed and perched a recently cleaned hat behind his ex-partner's head.

XXX

The slumbering redhead was still sprawled out on the infirmary table. A small smile was on his face.

"He doesn't look scary or threatening or a mafia executive or a murderer..." Atsushi rambled on to himself.

Kunikida and Dazai walked into the room, in the middle of an argument as usual.

"Kunikida, are you suggesting we should have left a victim there to die?" Dazai cheerfully asked.

The blond almost growled, "No, but-"

"Then there's nothing to be done except wait so that we can interrogate him."

"You think he will have information about Blue Clay we don't know?" Kunikida asked, a speculative look in his face.

Dazai grinned and plopped down next to the unconscious redhead. "Yes, I predict that Chibi knows more then we do and that he will give me this information."

"Because he hates child traffickers, right?" Atsushi asked.

"Correct! Looks like you were paying attention. These days, the Port Mafia doesn't buy and sell kids as a business. That was the first policy Chuuya suggested and it passed seven years ago."

"But...they were fine with...getting the bounty on me?" Atsushi asked.

Dazai smirked. "The Port Mafia isn't a charity. You're eighteen, you're not a child."

Naomi walked into the infirmary. "The President wants to see you Dazai."

"Atsushi, you have a very important job. Keep an eye on the hat rack for the rest of the evening," Dazai cheerfully said.

"Umm, okay?" Atsushi replied.

XXX

Kyouka fidgeted with the bunny charm on her phone. She had never told anyone who gave it to her. After her first major job, Chuuya had patted her head, had smiled warmly at her, and had dangled the small white bunny in front of her face. He was nice to Kyouka, like Kouyou was.

Beside her, Atsushi was nervously planning what he should if the executive was hostile. Like if Chuuya woke up and suddenly started killing everyone.

Chuuya woke up feeling oddly refreshed, well rested, and craving nicotine. He sat up and glanced around the clean white room. Chuuya sighed, it seems he had been rescued by the Armed Detective Agency. Subsequently, the Mafioso would owe the detectives a favor, he would not enjoy whenever they called it in.

"Uhhmmmm...Hi," the weretiger, Nakajima Atsushi, nervously greeted.

A red eyebrow rose, unimpressed, "hi."

"Kyouka, go get Dazai," Atsushi ordered. The girl nodded and darted out of the room.

"Oh? That scared of me, Atsushi?" The executive teased. He picked his hat up and put it snugly on his head.

Atsushi's voice quivered as he said, "No?"

"Sounds more like a question then a statement," Dazai joked.

Atsushi and Chuuya immediately looked at the new arrival. The former was relieved his mentor was here.

"Mackerel," Chuuya greeted, resignation and annoyance quite clear in his tone.

"Slug," Dazai replied.

"Suicidal maniac."

"Hat rack."

"Waste of bandages."

"Chibi."

Chuuya shot Dazai a glare of utter hatred. With a bright smile, Dazai took a step back to increase his chances of survival. Death by midget would not be fun.

XXX

Kunikida and Atsushi had been told to wait outside the infirmary by Dazai. They almost ran inside at the thuds and yells.

But Dazai had poked his head out door and reassured them, "don't mind us. Just disregard anything you hear." He quickly closed the door, something hit it soon after.

"I don't trust him, he's a Port Mafia Executive. What if he lies to Dazai?" Atsushi questioned.

Kunikida frowned. "I agree with your concern, but Dazai is the best person to handle this...considering his ties."

Kyouka smiled at the ground. She timidly said, "He isn't a bad person. He gave me my first crepe."

XXX

Chuuya glanced over as the door opened. He had been bored, laying on the infirmary bed for several hours. Just as it had after Kouyou's capture, the infirmary had become the largely insecure holding cell for the ADA's prisoner.

"They're all caught and awaiting trial," Dazai announced.

"Good," Chuuya tartly replied. "Can I leave now?"

Dazai smirked. "Of course."

Chuuya swung his legs over onto the floor. "If you're ever wanting to trade stories like before...I'd be up for it. Neither of us really know what's been going on recently."

"Actually wanting to talk to me? Who are you and what have you done with Mr. Fancy Hat?" Dazai teased.

Chuuya pulled a face, "Ugh, did Ranpo share that nickname with the whole office or something?"

"He refers to you as that, so yes, all of us know it. There was one time Kunikida said 'we know Mr. Fancy-", he sat down and didn't say anything for the rest of the meeting," Dazai recounted. Chuuya snorted.

They walked out of the infirmary.  
For now, the eyes of the two ex-partners were bright, with mischief and amusement.

Chuuya strolled out of the Armed Detective Agency's office to waves and goodbyes.

3) A much loved (and hated) song

Age 18

Dazai quietly sang along to the suicide song. Beside him, in the driver's seat, Chuuya was soundly sleeping.

Honestly, Dazai figured Chuuya would have learned to not trust him to watch while on stakeouts.

Dazai took out his earbuds and cautiously inserted them in his partner's ears. He then hit replay and turned the volume on his phone all the way up.

"Dazai!" Came the furious yell as Chuuya woke up. Dazai was already out of the car and quickly walking away.

XXX

Age 23

Chuuya was usually untouchable in a fight. But this time he was sleep deprived and mad that someone had managed to steal his hat. Chuuya stood still and cursed a blue streak. An invisible ability user took the chance to knock the redhead out while he was distracted.

Killing a Port Mafia executive would put the group in a worse position then a police office in Port Mafia Headquarters. The solution to their predicament was to buy themselves some time and not kill Chuuya. So an unconscious Chuuya ended up in a crate that had been used to smuggle precious metals.

Dazai hummed to himself as he strode around the warehouse. The detective's mind should have been on his investigation, but he preferred to try to remember an old song he hear when he was younger.

The loud humming grated subconsciously on Chuuya's ears, as the song was Dazai's favorite song. Chuuya woke up when Dazai started singing the lyrics out loud.

The Mafioso immediately searched around the crate for his hat. Luckily, one of the men had the decency to give him the much beloved item back.

Chuuya slammed his feet against the inside of the crate to get his former partner's attention. "Hey! Idiot! Open the box!"

Dazai turned and somewhat skipped to the crate, a surprised smile stretching across his face. Dazai inspected the crate and nodded sagely. After a nifty bit of lock picking, the detective managed to open the crate.

"Good afternoon, Mackerel." Chuuya snarked, his hand on his hat as if to tip it.

Dazai smirked and tried to put the lid back on. Chuuya glared at Dazai and used his superior strength to wrench the lid from Dazai's hands.

"Gimme that!" Chuuya muttered, squirming to get out of the box. His back popped as he stretched in an attempt to get rid of the soreness in his muscles.

"So...hat rack, do you often lock yourself in boxes?" Dazai teased. He stepped back.

"As often as you not thinking about suicide every five minutes." Chuuya shot back and stepped out of the box with a scowl.

"So, mind telling me who stuck you in there?" Dazai prompted with a grin.

"None of your business, Dazai," Chuuya growled.

"Ah, but it is. I'm here for a case, and you're the only witness I have. Or should I say 'victim'?" Dazai smirked. He put his hands in his trench coat pockets.

"I'm not a victim!" Chuuya yelled and shook his fist at his ex-partner.

Dazai held his palms up defensively. "Okay, okay. You just lost a fight, that's fine."

"I'm going to kill you," Chuuya snapped.

A/N

Omake 3 was partly cowritten with my beta TKDGirl17 (on ).

-Silver


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